Concealed
by Fleuramis
Summary: Our Musketeers experience several forms of concealment during their mission for the King.
1. Chapter 1

Here we go with a new fanfic. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know. I really value your reviews.

CONCEALED

The young woman stopped in the middle of the flower-stewn meadow, stooping to pick one of the tiny wildflowers peeking up through the long grass. Holding it up to inhale its fragrance, she held out her arms and twirled around, her long, curly brown hair floating around her catching the morning sun's rays. Smiling, she looked up to the branches of the lone tree in the meadow, and plucked a small red apple from the lowest branch, depositing it in the pocket of the apron she had remembered to cover her dress with that morning before leaving the house.

Delighting in the beauty surrounding her, she continued walking, finally entering her favorite place, the forest. The change was immediate, sunlight only filtering faintly through the thick branches overhead. Her pace slowed, and she wound her way around the myriad of tree trunks, over creepers, through creekbeds rushing over rocks and pebbles. Birds flitted to and fro above her head, woodland animals occasionally peeped from the bushes and thick overgrowth.

Reaching the clearing she had been aiming for, she sank down to the ground with a contented sigh, and pulling the apple from her apron pocket, she slowly munched as she continued to enjoy her surroundings.

Sometimes, she imagined she was a princess meeting her fiance, a neighboring prince, in the quiet of the forest glade. Other times, she was a mother, teaching her children about the beauties of nature waiting to be discovered for inquisitive eyes and ears. But sometimes, like today, she imagined what it would be like to be lost amidst the trees, bushes, animals and birds, and utterly alone. She didn't know why those thoughts came to her sometimes, she just accepted them when they entered her mind.

Still daydreaming, she finished her apple, and got back up to her feet to continue her meandering. Her father had taught her well how to observe when she had still been just a little girl. He had taught her to stay very still if she wanted to see some of the secrets the forest contained, and she had been a very good learner. She put those well-loved skills to use every time she had a chance, like today, to spend some time alone with nature.

Continuing on through the forest, she spied a deer looking back at her from behind a huge old oak ahead to her right. As she watched, he stayed very still for a moment, then moved into the open and across the little path she was walking, before seeming to vanish again into the trees. He had made no sound at all. Something told her to stay where she was, and she was glad that she had, for a few moments later, another deer went through exactly the same motions, and also vanished as he melted into the trees to the left of the path. As she continued to be transfixed by this, ten more of the beautiful animals did the same thing. It was amazing how quietly these large animals could move, she mused to herself, thankful that she had been there to see them that morning.

A little further on, she spotted a busy beaver just beginning to build its dam, and smiling, stopped for a while to observe, amazed at its industriousness. Moving on, she caught sight of the red fur of a fox. These animals were usually so furtive, hiding out of sight, that she didn't see much of their activities. This one stayed within sight long enough for her to see the chicken hanging from its mouth where it was carrying it. Shame on him, stealing part of some farmer's livelihood, she thought to herself.

Since it was several hours after sunrise now, she figured she should probably get back to the house to do her chores, before Papa came looking for her. And he would know just where to look, she thought fondly, as he knew her favorite places.

Turning around to begin her way back, she thought she heard a faint noise, but stopping, noticed the ordinary silence of the woodland surrounding her. Moving on, she walked a few more steps before hearing it again. Startled, she thought, that was no bird or animal. Was there someone here in the woods with her? And if so, why was the sound so distressed?

Moving slowly and more quietly, she moved off to the left, her eyes searching for the something or someone who had made the sound. She stopped every few steps, and listened, but didn't hear the sound again. But she knew which direction she had heard it coming from, so she continued in that direction.

She came upon one of the meandering creeks scattered throughout the forest. Looking towards her right, nothing looked out of place. Switching her focus, she turned to the left and began slowly moving along the edge of the creek, stepping carefully over the many small stones and pebbles scattered close to the water.

And then, she came to an abrupt stop. There ahead, she could see a form on the ground. Slowly moving forward, what she could see caused her to move quickly towards it. Approaching the body, as she could see now that was what it was,she saw the lower half of a man's body in the water of the creek, and the upper half on the rocks and pebbles of the creek's edge. He was lying facedown, half covered with leaves and other debris, and he was unmoving.

She was half afraid to touch him. What if he was dead? She had never touched a dead body in her life. Hesitant, she finally made up her mind to be brave. If this man, whoever he was, was alive, he would need her help. That thought gave her the courage to move forward the final few steps, and reach down to touch his neck, intent on seeing if he was alive or not.

She felt a pulse faintly fluttering under her fingers, and let out the breath she had not realized she was holding. Reaching out with both hands, she gently grabbed hold of his shoulder and turned him over.

Whatever she had expected to see, it was not the very attractive features of a young bearded man, eyes closed, unconscious. Blood covered half of his face, but not enough for her to miss the handsome countenance. She now noticed the leather he was wearing from head to foot, and the large ominous patch of red on his right side. She had never cared for an injured person before, just stray animals mostly, and once, their little puppy.

Looking over him again, she saw the engraved leather piece on his shoulder, and wondered what it was. She could see that he had attachments to carry weapons, but none were in evidence now.

Realizing she needed to stop the oozing blood coming from his side, she thought of ripping a piece of her dress or apron when she spotted something that looked like the strip she needed-the azure blue cloth around his waist would work just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

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Athos and Porthos were beside themselves. How could they have been taken so easily? They had been handily taking care of the band of ruffians who had attacked them.

Aramis, who had been washing off the accumulation of dust and grime from three days in the saddle in the nearby river when the attack came, had so far avoided the attention of the attackers. Athos and Porthos heartily hoped he did not come to their attention, as it was Aramis who was carrying the important missive from the elderly duke that the King was eagerly awaiting in Paris. They hoped he could slip away without detection while they took care of their foe..

Athos and Porthos, beleagered as they were, still heard the ominous sound of shots ringing out in the direction Aramis had taken. Their attention was unwillingly brought back, however, to the situation they found themselves in. Just as they were defeating their opponents, men dropped from the trees above their heads, landing on their shoulders and bringing them both to the ground. Their opponents on the ground quickly took advantage of the situation, and pointed their rapiers at the Musketeers' throats, effectively ending any fighting they thought they might still do. Their hands were quickly brought behind their backs, where they were tightly tied together. Athos could barely keep the look of disgust from his face. They had been caught by an old bandit's trick, and were now helpless to go to their brother's aid, if aid he needed.

A tall, wiry, black-haired man came to stand in front of Athos, leaning his head forward until he was practically in the Musketeer's face. "Where is the letter?", he asked.

Athos nearly froze as he realized these weren't bandits at all, but were hired to prevent them from delivering the letter to the King. His face quickly blanked as he stared back at his captor. "What letter?" he asked, as nonchallantly as possible.

This was obviously the wrong answer in his captor's opinion, as his fist suddenly lashed out and slammed into Athos' face, knocking him to the ground.

Porthos yelled, "Hey!", before becoming quiet again when one of the 'bandits' pointed a pistol at his head.

"Search them," the 'bandit' leader ordered.

A thorough search revealed nothing, and Athos could see that the leader was very frustrated, not a good situation for he and Porthos to be in with their hands tied behind them.

The man stalked slowly around them, staring at them, then slowly raised his pistol and leveled it at Porthos' temple.

"I am going to count to three, and if you do not tell me where you have hidden the letter, you will be minus one Musketeer," the leader growled at Athos.

When the man got to two, Athos said, "Wait! We do not have it with us."

The leader slowly lowered the pistol, and got in Athos' face again. But a moment later, his face relaxed and he smiled, a very nasty smile as he looked at the expression on Athos' face.

Athos realized too late that as soon as he had said it wasn't with them, that they would think of Aramis. Aramis, who, from the fact that he had not surfaced again after the gunshot, may be lying somewhere dead or injured. And Athos, looking into the 'bandit's' face, knew he had figured it out, too.

"The third one, he has it, doesn't he?" the 'bandit' smirked. "Get the horses. We are going Musketeer-hunting again."

One of the men said, "He fell in the river after we shot him. He may be dead already, or floating downstream by now."

Ignoring the man, the man evidently the leader said, One way or the other, we will get him. He is unimportant. It is what he is carrying that is valuable. If he is indeed in possession of it, we will finish him off, and then return to do the same with these two. If not, we use them as leverage against each other to get our answers. Now, hurry up!"

Athos and Porthos were tied to two stout oak tree, with their feet lashed together, as well. Then, the group left, saying, "We will be back with your little friend."

Athos and Porthos began rubbing the ropes furiously against the bark of the trees, trying to get them to fray. Porthos said worriedly, "Those shots ...

Athos stopped him, saying, "We do not know that they hit anything. We just need to free ourselves as fast as possible and find him," refusing to think of the alternative, even though images of his beloved brother, floating face down in the river, refused to leave his mind.

Working silently for a few minutes, Porthos suddenly said,"He doesn't have his weapons, either. He took them off to go in the river."

"Porthos, let us think as positively as we can. We know nothing for sure. Let us hurry!"

Several minutes later, Porthos' rope split, and he was free. He quickly untied Athos, and they both raced towards the campsite. There, they saw that Aramis' weapons were still laying near the fire. They sprinted towards the river, only to come to a dead halt at the sight before them. The ground near the river's edge was stained with blood, and there was no sign of their brother. Had he, indeed, been swept downstream with the river's flow?


	3. Chapter 3

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The young woman was in a quandary. What was she to do? She was not strong enough to drag a full-grown man back to her home, and she couldn't just leave him where he was. Maybe she could go get her father to help? Would the man be all right while she was gone?

She had wrapped the scarf around the wound on his head to stop the bleeding. Then, she had ripped a piece from the hem of her dress, and wrapped that around his chest, to try and stop the bleeding from the wound on his side. She had no experience with anyone being shot, and didn't know what else she was supposed to do. Never having seen a man injured in such a way, she was sickened by the sight of the ragged, bleeding wounds, especially the large one on her side, and almost panicked when she realized she couldn't do enough on her own, that he might die if he wasn't properly tended to.

Her questions continued running through her head while she attempted to give him what medical attention she could. Then, just as she had finally decided she had no choice but to go get her father, a soft moan came from the unconscious man.

"Monsieur," she said. "Monsieur, will you open your eyes for me, please?"

At first, there was no response. He lay unmoving.

She spoke softly once again, "Monsieur, please will you wake up for me?"

Then, she saw his eyelids flutter as he tried to open them. He moaned in pain as his head moved slightly towards her. His eyes slowly opened. She could see the amount of pain he was in reflected in the eyes looking back at her.

"Who...", he began, before being interrupted by a hoarse cough. The movement of his body caused him to moan, and his eyes closed once again.

"Monsieur, please stay awake for me," she said. "You cannot stay where you are. You are badly injured, and I need to take you back to my house to take care of you. I cannot do it alone. You have to help me, please. Can you move?"

His eyes opened once more, and he finally spoke, saying, "I d..do not know... i...if I can m...move, but I w...will try," and before he had finished, he had begun lifting his upper body from the ground. The movement caused a cry of agony from his lips, as his body violently protested. Ignoring the pain, he continued stubbornly until he was finally in a sitting position. Then, he was unable to go any further, gasping as tremors shook his body from his exertions.

"I do n...not th..ink I can m..move more," he said, his voice no more than a whisper that she had to strain to hear. She could see how difficult it was for him even to have done as much as he had, his body shaking with the pain.

"Monsieur," she began.

Then, she stopped. "I do not even know your name."

"A...Aramis," he struggled to say.

She said, "Monsieur Aramis, I will go get my father to help. Please, will you stay right here? It will not take me very long. We live right past the meadow at the edge of the forest. I will be right back, I promise," laying her hand gently on his shoulder in reassurance.

Getting to her feet, she began to move swiftly away to get her father, looking back as she went to reassure herself that he was still conscious. Her heart was torn to have to leave him alone on the ground amidst the trees. Then, picking up her skirts, she ran.

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He had regained consciousness slowly, responding vaguely to a soft, feminine voice near his left ear. He turned his face towards the voice. Finally, opening his eyes, he beheld a vision of beauty swimming in his blurry sight before him.

Trying to ask who she was, his body was suddenly wracked with coughing. With a moan of pain, he closed his eyes, only for her to beg him to open them again and try to move for her. Being the gentleman he was, he did his best to respond, gradually lifting his pain-wracked body to a sitting position. By the time he had managed to do so, he felt the violent tremors throughout his body.

She had asked his name, as if his answer was important to her. He responded, his head in a fog as he did so. She told her she would go get her father and come back, and promised him she would indeed be back.

He wondered who she might be. She wasn't as young as he had first thought when he had awakened. She must be a young woman in her mid-twenties or so, but her mannerisms were of a younger age than she was. Her beauty matched her voice: long brown hair, falling in soft curls past her waist, large brown eyes, alabaster skin. He had been looking at an angel who had happened upon him when he was at his most helpless.

He was truly blessed that she had found him, as he would not have had the strength to make it any farther in his condition. The medic in him was cataloguing his injuries as best he could. He had been hit twice during the ambush, once along the side of his head, which was why he could feel dried blood down the side of his face, and the other, more serious wound on the left side of his chest. He was taking shallow breaths, trying to keep the pain at bay, as each time he drew breath, it was like a sharp stabbing sensation coming from the wound. He could feel something tied around his head and around his chest. So, she had attempted to take care of him, and probably realized she needed help to do so.

His mind was still rather foggy, but he wondered where his brothers were. He remembered being shot and falling in the river, but not much after that yet. His heart clenched as he thought, did his attackers then turn on his brothers? Had they survived? Where were they? He could feel his heart speeding up in panic at his worry for his beloved friends. As his breathing sped up, as well, his eyes rolled up and he fell back to the ground unconscious once more.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm sorry I am so late with this new chapter. Life, including a nasty root canal and medical tests, got in the way. I hope you enjoy!

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Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan searched the riverbank for hours without finding any sign that Aramis had pulled himself out of the water onto the bank. They had ridden both sides, their hearts hoping to discover at least some sign of his having left the swiftly moving river, but there was no trace of him. They reluctantly had to stop when darkness began to fall.

Making camp for the night, all three brothers had only one thing on their minds: to be up as soon as the sun began to rise. They were all worried sick about their missing brother. Obviously, at least one of the shots had found him, or he wouldn't have been carried downriver. Did he go under? Would they find his body tomorrow along the next stretch of river? None of them wanted to believe that, but the thought kept coming to them: then where was he? They knew they would never give up searching until they found him.

The next morning, they began their search again, hopeful with the new day that they would finally find him, or at least, find some evidence that he had made it out of the river.

By midday, they were near panic as they had found no trace anywhere of him. Stopping for a moment, Porthos said, "How could he have vanished like this?"

D'Artagnan softly said, "Even if he didn't make it out of the water...", and couldn't go on. He was voicing what all of them tried not to think about.

Athos replied, "His ... body still would have washed ashore. Which means he is indeed still alive. We will continue after stopping to eat a little. We need sustenance, or we will tire. Then, we continue until dusk."

It was rare to see the heads hanging and shoulders drooping of the three men. But it was rare indeed when they were possibly facing losing one of their brothers. Their hearts were sad indeed, and none of them really felt like eating, while one of them's fate was unknown.

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She was trying to hurry her father along. He was a big man, broad-shouldered and strong, with sandy brown hair, and bushy eyebrows. She had found him out in the field, and he hadn't wanted to leave his work. It was rare for her to insist upon something once her Papa had made his wishes clear, but her worry for the unknown, wounded young man made her bold, and finally her father had dropped his hoe and come with her.

She raced through the field, then on through the flower-filled meadow she had so enjoyed early that morning. Gone was the carefree moments she had spent, replaced by a pair of pain-filled chocolate brown eyes in a deathly pale face. With that vision tormenting her, she moved even more swiftly, never looking back to see if her father followed her.

Entering the forest, she nimbly ran barefoot through the creepers and undergrowth, making a beeline for the place she had left her injured stranger-Aramis, he had told her. But when she got to the clearing, her heart sank, as he was once more lying unconscious on the ground. She had been so happy that he had awakened, but he couldn't sustain the effort.

Kneeling beside him, she gently tapped his shoulder, hoping maybe there would be some response. But he remained motionless. Her father silently knelt beside her, his eyes roving over the man, wondering who he was, how he had been injured, and where he had come from. He saw the leather, and it occurred to him that the man might well be a soldier. But their were no weapons on his belt, a very unusual occurrence if he indeed was.

"Angelique, did he have anything on him to indicate who he is", he asked his daughter.

"I did not search him, Papa. I was just concerned for his being hurt," she replied, her eyes never leaving Aramis' face. "Please, Papa, would you be able to carry him to the house? I can care for him there."

He frowned as he answered her, "We cannot bring strangers into our house, Angelique. We have no idea who he is, or why he was injured."

"If you will not bring him there," she replied very softly, but in determined voice, "I will stay here and take care of him. He will die if we leave him here. I cannot just ignore him. He has done nothing to us. He is no threat."

"Angelique ...", he began, entreating her to listen to reason.

"No, Papa. I will not desert him in the forest to die. I would expect the same of someone else if they ever, God forbid, found you sick or injured while you were on one of your trips. You know me. I cannot abide seeing hurt or injury. I do not know where he came from, but he was lying half in, half out of the creek, totally helpless and at the mercy of any wild animal that might happen along, to say nothing of bandits and others up to no good. I will stay with him to protect and nurse him, if you do not want him to come into our house."

"You know I can deny you nothing, my sweet poppet. Very well," he said, in a resigned voice. Gathering up the unconscious young man, he turned and headed for their home, his daughter very close to his side, her eyes never leaving the stranger's face.

He loved his daughter very much, and he knew how compassionate she was. If she found an injured animal or bird, she always had to take it in and care for it. She had a very tender side to her, and it was now totally focused on the man he was carrying in his arms. He just hoped he wouldn't be proven wrong in taking the man into their home.

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Reaching their small house, Angelique ran ahead to open the door for them. Her father brought his burden inside, and straight back to the small extra room they kept for when Uncle Claude visited, laying the man upon the bed. Angelique adjusted the pillow under his head to better support him, gently laying her hand upon his cheek as if to say 'it's all right. You're safe now."

She didn't know why she felt as she did about the man-she kept having to remind herself to say 'Aramis'. She almost felt some connection to him, which seemed strange, as she had never seem him before in her life.

Her father said, "We had better examine his injuries, and treat them. We do not know how long he had lain in the woods before you happened across him. Having lain in the dirt, the water, the weeds, he will be lucky if he gets no infections."

Together, they gently lifted him and removed doublet. He groaned as they did so, and Angelique excitedly said, "Aramis! Please wake for us." But his eyes remained closed.

She went to get a bowl of water and cloth, and gently wiped away the encrusted blood on the side of his face, revealing a long gash. Her father thought to himself 'a bullet wound', frowning, as he hoped the man wouldn't draw his attackers to their house.

Next, she opened his shirt gingerly, trying not to disturb the injury causing the bleeding on his side. Again, wiping away the blood, they discovered a second bullet wound, causing her father's frown to deepen. What had they gotten themselves into, he worried.

Angelique applied some of the salve which her father used when he cut himself while working in the fields to both the head wound and the one in his side, before winding bandages around his side and head.

Angelique once again spoke Aramis' name, hoping maybe now he would hear her.

Aramis, groggy and barely conscious, could hear the angel's voice speaking to him again. He tried very hard to do as she asked, finding it hard to lift his eyelids. Finally being able to do so, he saw again the lovely young woman he had seen before. Behind her this time, she saw a giant of a man, but with a resemblance to her.

But as the man looked on, his eyes grew hard, and a light in his eyes as if he recognized him. "You!", he said, his voice full of anger.


	5. Chapter 5

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Aramis' vision was blurry, but he could still see the anger in the big man's eyes. It confused him. Who was he? But his mind was too foggy to process his thoughts, and the pain pulled him back into the blackness.

Angelique stared up at her father, also confused. Why was he angry with Aramis? Did he know him? Had he met him in the past?

Her father saw the confusion in her eyes, and backed away. His thoughts were whirling around his head. He recognized the young man's eyes. It reminded him of things he didn't want to remember. Who was he? Why was he in this vicinity? Was he looking for them? He just didn't know.

But he knew he didn't want to hurt the daughter he cherished so much, so he mustered up a small smile as he looked at her. He also didn't want her to wonder about his reaction. She was a very curious young woman, his daughter, and as sweet as she was, also very persistent when her curiosity was aroused, as it was now. He didn't want her to start asking him questions, questions he didn't know how to answer right now. And he also didn't need distractions with what was happening in his off-the-farm work, either. She didn't know about the other work he did to bring in enough money to keep their farm going, and if he was distracted enough, he might let something slip.

"I'm sorry, poppet, but he reminded me so much of someone I used to know a few years ago-a man who had cheated me out of money. But I realize this man is somewhat younger than that man would be now, so he obviously isn't the same man. I didn't mean to frighten you with my reaction," he said, leaning down and giving her a hug and kiss on the forehead, something he had been doing since she was barely out of diapers.

Angelique smiled up at her Papa, somewhat mollified by his explanation, but still sensing there was something he was keeping from her. But for the moment, she left it alone, as she really didn't know how to deal with it yet.

Leaning over Aramis, she tucked the blankets up to his chin again, and as before, laid her palm against his cheek. "Poor Aramis. I am going to take good care of you, and bring you back to the health that someone tried to rob you of. You are safe here now. Rest well."

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Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan were at their wit's ends. They could find no sign of Aramis, and had followed the river for miles over the past 2 days.

Athos finally brought the search to a halt, saying, "I doubt if going further downstream will unearth anything. I believe we need to go back to the point of his disappearance, and begin again, looking more closely still at any sign that he left the river. Maybe we missed something. Other than doing this, we have no other search leads to follow."

They slowly mounted again, shoulders slumping dejectedly. They were becoming quite worried at the prospect of never seeing their comrade again, his disappearance quite baffling to them. They were experienced trackers, the best in the Musketeers, having unearthed evidence from some of the best criminal minds in France. Yet, there was absolutely nothing for them to follow.

Heading back to where their original camp had been, they tried desperately to have positive thoughts, but all three of them's hearts were clenched with fear of his loss to them.

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Angelique's father went out that night, a meeting having been called with the men he earned extra money from. The meeting was in an old barn a mile away from his farm.

When he got there, all of the others were already sitting talking. Looking up as he entered the barn, a tall, black-haired man of middle years called out, "Jean, come and join us."

He sat down with them, and they resumed the conversation. Jean heard as they talked about the failed attempt to ambush some King's Musketeers to retrieve a valuable document they had been paid to wrest from them. They had attacked not knowing which one of the Musketeers had the document. One of them had been shot at least twice, and fell in the river, which carried him downstream. It had been noticed that there had been no movement, no struggle when the watered had carried him away. They assumed that he was dead, but still had the paper on him somewhere. They had captured the other two by a trick move, and figured from what one of them let slip that the injured one had the document they sought. Leaving them tied to the trees, they had ridden off in search of the missing Musketeer. But when they had returned emptyhanded, they found to their dismay, that the other two had somehow escaped. They then realized they needed to be vigilant in hiding their presence in the area. Musketeers had the reputation of being very good at tracking criminals down, and they had no intention of ending up in prison. '

The leader asked Jean, "You haven't seen any wounded strangers hereabouts, have you?"

Jean shrugged his shoulders, saying he had been very busy on his farm, and had seen no one in the vicinity. But in his mind, he was frantically thinking he had to get the wounded man out of sight in case his 'business partners' decided to visit his home. There was a cellar under the house where he could move him, and his daughter could still nurse him. Then, everyone would be safe. He would not lose a lucrative 'second job' or his life, and his daughter would be kept safe, as well. Schooling his features, he appeared to be paying rapt attention to the conversation, as he made the plans in his head.

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The Musketeers had begun all over again from their original camp. Combing over every inch of ground, from the river's edge outward, their eyes searched grass, rocks weeds, everything.

It was about mid-afternoon when Athos broke their silence, saying, "Do you see these marks in the dirt?". He was pointing to an area where Porthos and d'Artagnan could now see what, to him looked very like sweeping motions in the dirt, like something being wiped away.

Looking up at Athos, Porthos said, "Someone used a branch to sweep something away here. Do you suppose it could have been ...?"

"Aramis," Athos said. "Yes, I am hoping that is exactly what it is. We need to search farther away from the river if it was, as it would mean he had survived and moved this way."

"We will have to search further in, as well,"d'Artagnan said. "We are overlooking something. Another path, perhaps, or a small stream that is covered with underbrush, which would make it more difficult to discern unless a closer look is taken."

They looked at each other, seeing hope awakening in their faces, as well as determination. They would find their missing brother.

Athos said, "Shall we proceed?", and in a much different frame of mind, they set off once again.

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	6. Chapter 6

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Aramis slowly returned to consciousness, his head feeling like it was filled with cotton. As he gradually forced his weary eyes to open, he found that his vision was blurry. Trying to move his head to the side, pain shot through his forehead, so he stopped. Lying still, he tried to remember what had happened to get him to this stage. It took a while, but he finally remembered being shot and falling in the river,which carried him downstream as he was powerless to prevent it.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room opened softly. Remembering what happened when he moved his head before, Aramis this time looked without the movement. His vision clearing, he saw the young woman who had helped him before now entering his room. Where was he? his garbled mind asked. But no answer seemed to be forthcoming yet.

The woman came to the bed and smiled down at him as she saw that he was finally awake. "Good morning, monsieur," she softly said. "I am so happy to see that you have finally awoken."

"Where am it?", Aramis asked, frustrated that his voice sounded faint and scratchy from disuse.

"My name is Angelique, and you are in my father and I's home," Angelique replied. "I need you to try and drink some water for me, and then I have some food, if you think you are up to trying to eat?"

He didn't really feel like eating, but realized that food and water would probably make him feel less like a limp doll if it stayed down. So he nodded his head.

"I can try," seeing her smile again at his words.

She sat down at the edge of the bed, and lifted his head slightly to give him the water. As soon as his head was moved, he gave a low moan, not able to stop his reaction. Angelique held his head still and waited a moment. The pain seemed to calm when there was no more movement, so she lifted the cup to his lips, and he drank, realizing just how thirsty his body was. Leaving his head just where it was, she began spooning a thin broth to him. She got him to take several spoonfuls before he indicated it was enough. She looked disappointed.

Aramis said, "I am afraid if I take more, my body will not tolerate it yet, and I may cause you a considerable mess," smiling slightly as he said it.

She laid her hand over the top of his gently, and started to rise.

He stopped her by speaking again. "Angelique, I am very grateful that you found me. I would probably have died in the woods without assistance."

She said, "I am glad also that I found you, Monsieur Aramis."

He stilled as he heard his name spoken. "How do you know my name?"

"You yourself told me when I found you. Do you not remember?"

"I guess it will be a little while before everything comes back to me," he responded, fighting to keep his eyelids open as he was tiring.

"I will be back later. Rest now," she said, leaving as quietly as she had come in.

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Athos, Porthos and Aramis searched the area where the brushed-away tracks had been found, leaving no stone unturned. By midday, they had found nothing and were about to move a little further inland, when d'Artagnan shouted, "I found something!"

Athos and Porthos hurried to his side, leading their horses. D'Artagnan was standing over an area of thick underbrush. When they reached him, he said, "Look!" and pulled aside some of the brush, revealing a small gurgling creek. To one side of it, there was a single set of boot marks facing the water. Someone had entered the creek there.

There hearts all filled with hope at this sight. Aramis may have used the creek to disguise his trail, not knowing for sure if he was being followed or not. But Athos stooped down and pulled a small twig from the underbrush, saying, "Look".

They saw red on the twig, and knew it was blood. He was bleeding, and hadn't been able to care for the wound caused by the gunshots they had heard. Urgency marked their behavior as they pulled away more of the brush, and began following the creek downstream.

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Angelique heard her father coming home, his horse clip-clopping on the ground outside as he took it into the barn to unsaddle it. A short while later, he came into the house, going over to kiss her on the forehead.

Then, he told her, "I was in the tavern in the village today, and some men were talking about hunting a Musketeer who had robbed them. They said they wanted revenge."

Angelique's face blanched when she heard this. Aramis was helpless to defend himself at the moment. What could they do?

Her father, seeing her expression, said, "Do not worry. We can take him down to the cellar will never find him there, if they even think to come our way. And he can recover in safety. We will stay safe, too." As he said this, he was already heading for the cellar to prepare a place for their injured guest to stay. They had always had a bed down there, in case they had an occasional relative or guest to accomodate, which was rare. And no one else knew the cellar existed.

Going to Aramis' room, Angelique gently touched his shoulder, saying, "Aramis, can you wake up for me, please?"

Groggy eyes opened, and a half-awake Aramis looked up at her.

"We need to move you to protect you. They men who hurt you are in the area. We have a place they will never find you. My father is going to carry you there."

Concern clouded his eyes, as he was not fully awake and her words chilled him. What had he brought to their doorstep, when they had only been intent on being good Samaritans?

Jean lifted him as gently as possible, but it still caused a low groan of pain to escape Aramis, even though he was trying not to make a sound. Carrying him, Jean moved quickly to a door in the back of the house, and opening it, headed down the flight of stairs revealed to the light. Reaching the cellar floor, he laid Aramis down on the bed.

Angelique leaned down to him, smoothing away the errant strand of curly hair from his forehead jostled by the movements. "You will be safe here, Aramis. No one knows this is here except us. It is dark, but I will bring candles down in a few moments. Close your eyes and rest now."

Jean saw the movement, and frowned. Did her daughter have feelings for this man she barely knew? That would never do, he thought. He would keep an eye on her, and sit her down and talk with her if he saw any other tender gestures.

In the meantime, he needed to go back to the creek where Angelique had found him, and get rid of any traces of someone having been there, and he and Angelique's footprints leading to their house. If his business 'partners' ever found them, they would be killed.

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Aramis regained consciousness once more, and panicked at first because he didn't recognize where he was. Then, he gradually calmed down, as he remembered Angelique and her father moving him to the cellar. He looked around, pleased that this time, his head didn't protest quite as much at the movement.

It was a small cellar, and if he had been a claustrophobic, it would have given him problems, both because of its smallness, and because the ceiling was so low. The walls looked to be made of stone, and the floor was dirt. Angelique, true to her word, bless her, had brought down and lit candles at each of the corners of the cellar to dispel the darkness, as there were no windows underground.

Belatedly, he remembered the mission his brothers and he had been sent on. He looked around for his doublet, seeing it finally on a small table just out of reach of his bed. He was sure the documents were in the pocket, as Angelique was not the prying sort, but did they fall out or become damaged in his wild ride down the river. They had been in his pocket, and his doublet was leather, so that would have been protection, and if water seeped through into his pocket, the documents had been wrapped before their trip in oilcloth in case of accidents. So, unless someone pried by searching his pockets, they should be safe. But he was so helpless at the moment, that he would have wished his doublet was within reach, for safety's sake.

With that worrying his mind, he soon decided he needed to try to get his doublet. Tentatively moving a leg to the side of the bed, he slowly lifted himself up, grimacing at the reaction of his body to its being moved. Trying to ignore it, he moved himself to the edge of the bed, then after a short halt, gradually stood up. He nearly passed out from dizziness when he was fully standing, and needed to grab hold of the bed to keep his feet. Waiting a few moments for the world to stop whirling around his head, he took a step towards the table, only to cry out in pain at his body's reaction. Slowly, he crumpled to the ground, his hand still reaching towards the table as he lost consciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

I am so sorry I've taken so long with this chapter. I am going to try to get one or two more chapters done between Christmas and New Year to make it up to all of you. Merry Christmas!

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At midday, Angelique brought some lunch down for Aramis, hoping he might be awake and feeling a little better. The tray she carried it on clattered to the floor when she saw him lying on the cellar floor. Picking up her skirts, she raced down the steps to him.

"Aramis, what happened to you? Please wake up for me!" she cried.

With a groan, he opened his eyes, finding his head lying in Angelique's lap, her eyes full of tears as she spoke to him.

"I'm fine, Angelique," he assured her, trying to lift himself up.

But she said, "Just rest here a moment. What happened?"

"I needed my doublet, and foolishly thought I would have no trouble getting it," Aramis confessed. "But my head began spinning, and I don't even remember falling."

She leaned over and gently kissed him on his forehead. "I will get you a little bell, so that I can hear you if you need anything."

But the thought of being so helpless that he needed to ring a bell for everything didn't sit well with him. Slowly shaking his head, he replied, "If you bring me my doublet, I promise not to try something like this until my head calms down a bit. There is nothing else I need to reach," giving her a smile as he said this.

"Very well. Now, let us see if we can get you back into bed, and I will go get you a new tray of food, as I dropped the one I was bringing down when I saw you lying here."

A few moments later, he was once more lying on the bed with an extra pillow put behind his head to lift him a little to eat. Angelique came quickly back with a new tray, and Aramis found that this time he was truly hungry when the delicious scent reached him. He was also able to feed himself this time, for which he was grateful, as it meant he wasn't quite as helpless as before.

Finishing a bowl of broth filled with tender roasted chicken pieces, and two slices of freshly-made bread topped with creamy butter, Aramis could barely keep his eyes open now. Angelique found him sound asleep when she returned a short while later to fetch his tray, which was now haphazardly tilting sideways off his lap. She just smiled to herself, gathered the tray and left him to sleep.

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Bringing the tray back to the kitchen, Angelique smiled to herself thinking about the handsome young man she was caring for. She didn't see her father at first when she entered the room, but he saw her expression and frowned. She does have feelings for this man, he fumed to himself. She can't; they can't. She doesn't know.

He didn't want to, but he felt he had to tell the men he worked for who was staying at his house. He had to protect his daughter, and unfortunately, it was the only way he could think of to do it. Better the world was rid of this unfortunate young man, than catastrophe striking he and his daughter later.

Sighing he got out pen, ink and paper, and slowly penned a short note to Emile, the leader of the group he 'worked' for. Bringing it with him to his room, he laid it upside down on the bed while he went out a saddled his horse. Then, he would come back and fix himself some food to take with him, and gather the items he had been asked to procure for the group. He could deliver the note, and then deposit the items at the agreed upon place at the same time this afternoon, making one trip instead of going back tomorrow with the items, as had originally been agreed upon. He always put the items in a chest buried under an oak tree at the edge of town, as he didn't want to be seen to often in the company of the ruffians. One day wouldn't make much difference.

He headed out to the barn to saddle his horse, still thinking of a story he could give his daughter when the young man 'disappeared'. He would also have to make sure she was out in the fields or woods before his 'associates' arrived. He felt guilty for turning the young man over to his business associates, and he also felt guilty for lying to his daughter, but he couldn't see another way out for them now.

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Angelique thought she had seen her father go to his room, so decided to go have a talk with him. She thought someone should ride to Paris and tell the Musketeers what had happened, and her father was the only one who could go.

Knocking on his door, she received no reply, and could hear no sound of movement from within the room. Trying again with the same results, she finally just slowly opened the door.

Several tightly tied burlap bags were laid upon the bed, along with a folded note. Where was her father going, that he had not said anything to her? Hesitantly, she approached the bed, reaching for the note. She felt like she was prying, but at the same time thought, he was leaving without a word to her, and with these mysterious bags? She had always felt bad for her insatiable curiosity, as it had got her into trouble in the past, but she just couldn't seem to help herself.

Opening the note, she read: The man you are looking for is here. Come tomorrow at midday. He is in the cellar. There was no signature.

She nearly dropped the note in horror at her father's words. How could he do this? Why would he do it? The young man had done nothing to either of them.

Leaving the note on the bed and exiting the room, she went to her room, frantically thinking of what she could do. There was really only one thing she could do, though, and her heart beat so rapidly at the thought of doing it.

She had to help Aramis to leave, and she had to go with him. The man her father's note was addressed to would be very angry once he came and found his quarry missing, and would know she had assisted him. So, yes she had to leave.

She had never known any other home. Her happy existence living with her father would come to an end. Her heart broke at the thought that her father, the man she adored, would turn Aramis over to men who would kill him without another thought. She couldn't let that happen to an innocent man, regardless of who was doing it.

But she would have to wait until her father left before doing it, and she would have to behave as if nothing untoward had happened that day. Quickly, she put a few things in a bag under her bed, and went back to the kitchen. She pulled out a board and ingredients to prepare and bake some more bread, so her father wouldn't suspect anything.

She was mixing flour and sugar when her father returned. He came up to her and said, "I will be gone the rest of the day, Angelique. Something unexpected came up. I will be back late, so keep the door locked, all right?"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Angelique reached up and gave her father a kiss on his cheek, wishing him a safe trip, but inside, sick at the thought of what he had revealed of his inner nature to her that day.

When he had left, she watched him ride out of sight before heading down into the cellar again.

She hated to have to wake Aramis up, as he looked so peaceful lying in the bed. But she knew she had to do it and quickly, as they had to be a good distance away before her father or his mysterious acquaintances came back.

Gently rubbing Aramis' shoulder, she whispered to him, "Aramis, please wake up for me."

His eyes slowly opened, still sleep-filled and not quite all awake yet. She knew this would be hard for him, but necessary.

"Aramis, we are in danger. We need to leave now."

His eyes showed his confusion as he slowly came fully awake. He could see the fear in her eyes, and didn't understand.

"The men who hurt you are coming here. We have to go somewhere where they won't find us. Please. I know it will be painful, but I don't want them to hurt you again, or kill you."

He maneuvred his legs to the side of the bed, and slowly sat up. Waiting a moment to let his spinning head calm down, he pushed himself off the bed and stood up. She was right at his side, putting his arm around her shoulders for balance.

After a moment, they began moving towards the steps, and gradually climbed them. Aramis was trying to get his breath back by the time they reached the top of the stairs. She grabbed the bag she had prepared, plus one of food she had thought to put together from the kitchen, while he leaned against the table.

Then, they moved to the front door, and exiting, headed across the fields and away from her home, hopefully also away from danger. They moved slowly, as Aramis was not able to move too fast. Soon, her home disappeared behind them, as they crossed the field she had so gaily danced in the morning she found him.


	8. Chapter 8

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Three sides of her father's farm were surrounded by forest. Angelique knew better than to take them down the road on the fourth side, as it was too out in the open. She also did not want to go through the section of forest where she had found Aramis, for fear that her father's attempts to obliterate signs of their presence there were not complete. So she headed them in the opposite direction.

She had never been far away from her farm, and at any other time, it would have caused a little fright at going completely into the unknown with a man she had never seen before she found him. But she had a sense of trust in Aramis, even though she could not have described why she felt that way. She knew that she enjoyed being with him, and didn't really stop to contemplate why that might be. She also knew she was very frightened of someone hurting him again, and had no regrets at leaving with him and going somewhere she had never been.

Aramis tried valiantly to be a strong presence for Angelique, but his head was causing a dizziness that made keeping himself on his feet difficult. He just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as he and Angelique wound their way through thickly forested land away from her farm. Occasionally, he ended up losing his balance and finding himself on his knees in the thick brush and creepers they were moving through, but each time, he struggled up and kept moving. Angelique would ask him if he needed to take a break, but he understood the reason for going through the brush.

Angelique would stop every so often and grab a branch, attempting to wipe out any sign of their trail. She knew they couldn't do what would conceal it completely-wade through one of the many creeks winding their way through the woods. Aramis would never be able to do that in his condition, especially as to get down in the creek, they would have had to climb down into it, and descending that way would be difficult enough without the vines and roots littering the sides of the creek.

She had thought ahead enough to realize that they might need something to fend off any night-roaming animals while they were within the forest, so she had taken one of her father's pistols and also a knife. Her father had never taught her to use them, however so she didn't know what she would do if they encountered a threat, so she prayed that they wouldn't need the weapons.

It was mid-afternoon now, so she needed to find them a safe place to stop when evening fell. Her eyes roamed their surroundings, hoping against hope that she would sight something that would be enough concealment in case their possible pursuers came this way.

She was rewarded just before nightfall when she saw several huge old oak trees lying on their sides almost in a triangle. She didn't stop to think of the unlikelihood of seeing such an arrangement here in the woods. She just guided a now-exhausted Aramis over and into the shelter she felt God had provided for them for the night. They couldn't build a fire to keep warm, for fear of it being noticed, but they were partially sheltered by the massive trunks around them.

She took off her cloak and laid it on the ground, then assisted Aramis to lie down and finally rest. He protested, as he was the man and thought he should be assisting her, but once his head was laid on the cloak, he curled up on his side and was asleep almost immediately.

She was concerned that he had not eaten anything before falling asleep, but realized sleep was probably what his body needed most after the strenuous day they had gone through. Lying down behind him, she wrapped her arm around his waist and fell asleep almost as fast as he had done, the night sounds of the woods she loved so much echoing around them as they slept.

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Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan had been following the creek's path for several hours when d'Artagnan stopped suddenly, pointing at a spot on the ground to the side of the creek. They climbed out of the creek to look at what he had seen, but they didn't see anythin. Looking questioningly at d'Artagnan, they waited for an explanation.

D'Artagnan pointed out the spot again, and said, "Look! Someone has used a branch to try to wipe away something and I'm guessing it might be footprints, so no one could follow them. This could be Aramis, if his injury hasn't hampered him doing so, or someone else did it for reasons of their own."

Athos was silent for a moment studying the tracks, before saying, "I believe you may be right. Let us see if we can find enough poorly-concealed signs of a trail to be able to follow it to its source. And let us hope two things: that it is indeed Aramis, and that his pursuers have not already seen what we have found."

With that, the began their search for more signs that would assist them in finding their beloved brother, and finding him before the men who sought him did.

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Jean met in late afternoon with the band of men he worked with. He was nervous about what he needed to tell them, as the leader, whose name he still didn't know after nearly a year of working with them, was somewhat of a 'loose cannon'. No one who knew him ever wanted to give him bad news, or cross him for any reason as he also had a very bad temper.

Jean felt he had to tell them about the Musketeer before Angelique fell for even more than he could tell she already had. But he also feared that when the bandits found him, which he knew would be soon as he knew the skills of the trackers in the group, she would fight to protect him no matter what her father said. She protected those she cared for fiercely, even though heretofore, it had mostly been injured animals she had found.

He still remembered what had happened when she had found 3 older boys tormenting a baby raccoon in the woods one day. She had grabbed a fallen tree limb and laid into them with it, totally disregarding the fact that they were both taller and stronger than she was. One of them had taken the tree limb away from her and grabbing her around the waist and throwing her to the ground, he had barely been in time to put a stop to whatever they had been about to do to her.

When he had come upon the forest clearing, he saw his daughter on the ground with three boys surrounding her, one with a drawn knife in his hand and a look of fury on his face. Jean had luckily been out hunting, so he was armed. Aiming the gun at the boys, he shouted at them to get out of there at once.

When they had left, he gathered his frightened daughter in his arms, and turned to leave. But she had insisted on being put down,and as soon as her feet hit the ground, she had run to where the baby raccoon was lying and scooped him up in her arms. She had insisted on bringing him home and taking care of him, both frustrating her father and also making him proud of her tender heart.

But, in this instance, he didn't dare let her have her way, as these men would kill her without a thought to get to their quarry. He felt bad for the Musketeer, but didn't dare let her get close to him, not only because of the reason he harbored in his heart, but because of the danger to her life. If it came to a choice between his daughter and the Musketeer, there was 'no' choice in his mind.

So, when Albert, the 'bandit' leader arrived, Jean spilled the beans, condemning a man he barely knew to save the life of the daughter he loved.


	9. Chapter 9

Angelique awoke in the morning, finding that she had snuggled closer to Aramis during the night. Her hand was laying alongside his cheek, and she couldn't resist the soft caress she gave. Aramis started to awaken at the touch, eyelids flickering in the morning sunlight finding its way through the trees overhead. He recognized the touch as a hand, a very soft, feminine hand, which brought him completely awake to find Angelique beside him, a dreamy look on her face.

Aramis was troubled. He liked Angelique, and was incredibly grateful for her care of him since she had found him. He appreciated beauty wherever he found it, and recognized how lovely Angelique was.

But he also was a gentleman, and would never take advantage of an innocent, even if he had been tempted, which he was not. He may notice the beauty inherent in women that he was around, but his heart belonged to Anne, and he had not been interested in another woman since.

But he didn't want to hurt this lovely young woman. Her gesture just now had been the caress of someone attracted to him, maybe the first man she had ever had feelings for, if his instincts were serving him correctly. So he would proceed carefully, for her sake.

"Good morning," she greeted him when she saw his eyes opened. Nervous at her boldness in caressing him, she backed away slightly, hoping he had not noticed.

Aramis actually felt a little stronger than when he had lain down the night before. It wasn't much, but any improvement in his condition was looked on as a good thing at the moment.

Then, he remembered her words as she came to get him away from the house. His head must really have been muddled at the time, as he hadn't questioned anything she had said, just going along with her. There was no way he could have defended himself from even one man in the condition he was in. But now, he began to wonder how she had known of the danger. And where was her father, that she would just leave without him?

He slowly lifted himself into a sitting position, trying to ignore the stab of pain in doing so that caused him to groan, and Angelique's hands attempting to ease him back down.

"Aramis, rest! We do not need to move yet. It is very early," she said.

When he had succeeded in sitting, he turned slowly towards her, taking her hand in his.

"Angelique, I need to ask you something. How did you know I was in danger? You live in the country, and I heard no visitors. And why did you leave your father behind?" He spoke softly and gently, not wanting to make her feel that he was accusing her or her father of anything, but his body was growing tense as she hesitated to answer, not meeting his eyes.

"Angelique?" he tried again.

"I found...on the bed...I found...," she couldn't go on.

"You found something on your bed?" he asked.

She knew he deserved to know, but her heart ached to reveal what her father had done. She loved him, and kept trying to think of a reason he could have written that note that wouldn't tell her he chose killers over this good man in front of her.

The silence lengthened, as she dreaded bringing the truth to light. But her thoughts kept coming back to the fact again that Aramis deserved to know. It was, after all, his life that had almost been taken once, and was threatened again, regardless of it being her father that was bringing these killers into her once-peaceful world to do so.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she began. "Aramis, I...I am trying to understand w..what my father has d...done. I love him, b..but his actions make no s..sense to me." She was stuttering now, in her anguish at revealing her father's duplicity. I f..found a note on his bed. I..it said, 'Come tomorrow at midday. He is in the cellar,' finally able to look up at Aramis, his face shocked and surprised at her revelation.

She continued, "He was g..going to betray you to them, w.. whoever they are. I couldn't let them...", dissolving into tears as she couldn't go on speaking. Her shoulders were shaking with the force of her emotions.

He gathered her into his arms, and held her as the tears continued to fall rapidly, stroking her hair to try to soothe her. Finally, she calmed down and laid her head against his shoulder, hiccuping from the force of her emotions.

"I love my father, Aramis," she said in voice barely above a whisper, "but I couldn't just let you be killed by staying silent and not trying to get you away from whoever these men are. You are a good man, and what my father has done is inexcusable."

They stayed where they were for some time, and then Angelique straightened and said, "We need to find somewhere that is safe from whoever will be tracking us. The note indicated midday today, so we have time to eat something before moving on. But first, I need to look at your wounds, and change the dressing," seeing that he was leary of the pain that would be involved with this.

He marveled at her strength. He could almost see her gathering her stength and wits after the pain of her revelation. She was a determined young woman, one who cared very much for him. He would need to be very careful in not letting her care turn from infatuation into something deeper that could cause her to be badly hurt.

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Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan had been following the movements of the creek for quite some time, when they found something else that made their hearts turn over. There, at the side of the creek they found prints of a man's body lying halfway in the creek. A little further on, they found the prints of a body lying on the ground, and two pairs of footprints beside it. One set was too small for a man, and maybe was a half-grown boy or a woman. The other set was definitely made by a man. Then, these two sets of prints left, the man's prints deeper now, as if he might be carrying something-or someone.

The Musketeers were nearly sure the body was Aramis, as they had been following it for several miles. But who did the other two belong to-and were they friend or foe? It was the second thought that made them move quickly in the direction the prints led them in, hoping they would finally find their missing brother-and find him alive.

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After having told the 'bandits' his information, because he had forgotten to bring the note and had to meet them in person, Albert insisted that Jean stay with them until next day at noon. He didn't want him backing out and warning their quarry.

Jean worried that Angelique would think something happened to him when he didn't return that night. He also was frantic that she could have found the note he so carelessly had forgotten to bring with him.

He knew her, and if she had indeed gone into his room while he was gone, she would want to protect the Musketeer by taking him somewhere. That would only cause the 'bandits' to want to silence her, too. He couldn't let that happen to the daughter he loved, but he had no idea how to stop it. They would have no hesitation in killing him if he got in the way of the man they were seeking.

If he was right in foretelling her actions, and he knew his daughter well, she would be alone with the Musketeer also, and with the feelings he had seen that she had, that could be a disaster, as well. He was frantic trying to figure a way out, and not finding one.

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Angelique had finished changing the dressings on Aramis' head and side, and by the time she had been done, Aramis was barely conscious. She was satisfied that they were not infected, but they still looked angry and red. Running her hand through his unruly hair and brushing it back from his forehead, she sought to give him comfort. It finally worked, and he fell asleep.

Deciding to wait to move for an hour or so, hoping the rest would do him good, Angelique gathered her few provisions together, and sat beside Aramis. It seemed so peaceful here in the woods, listening to the birds singing in the trees, and the breeze gently ruffling the leaves on the branches. But they needed to find a more hidden shelter before the men who would be hunting found them.

She pondered possibilities, finally settling on heading for the foothills a short distance away. They could not climb through them with Aramis being as weak as he was, but there might be another place to hide when they got there: a cave or rock formation, possibly. She would find something. She had to.


	10. Chapter 10

The Musketeers followed the tracks until they reached a broad meadow partially filled with wildflowers. D'Artagnan said, "Look," pointing to a small house at the far edge of the meadow. Excited that they might finally be closer to finding their missing brother, they took off across the meadow,slowing as they approached the house. They didn't know if anyone was within, nor did they know, if there was, if they would be friend or foe.

Athos knocked firmly at the front door. No one answered, and there was no sound from within the house. Impatient at being stymied in their search, Porthos tried the latch on the door. It swung open, revealing a dark interior with no signs of life.

Pistols now in hand, they proceeded through the door, and began searching the house. No one was present. But d'Artagnan came out of one of the rooms with a paper in his hand.

"We need to find Aramis quickly. Look at this!"

After Athos and Porthos had also perused the note, Athos said, "Let us finish our search of this house first. There may be a cellar, as houses of this design generally include one to store vegetables, among other things."

It didn't take them long to find a cellar door, heading down the steps once they had grabbed a couple of lanterns in the main part of the house.

They had not even arrived at the bottom of the steps before Porthos said, "He was here! Look at the cot and the table next to it-there are bandages rolled up on it!"

Moving their lanterns around to the corners, they all froze when they saw a body lying against the far wall. Approaching slowly with pistols still drawn, d'Artagnan slowly rolled the man over, revealing a strange face unknown to them. He was a big man, with a head of straight black hair.

Athos said, I wonder who he is. Maybe the owner of the house, perhaps?"

He had no sooner said this when the man groaned, moving his head slightly as he was slowly coming to. His eyes opened a moment later, and froze when he saw three strange men squatting around him, their faces at once curious and frowning.

"Who are you, monsieur," Athos asked him in his flat, yet commanding voice.

The man continued to stare at them for a moment, still obviously somewhat groggy from whatever had happened to him.

"My name is Jean Bertrand, and this is my house. Some men entered against my will, hit me once they were inside," he improvised, shiftly his story somewhat to maintain his innocence.

"What were they after-do you know?" Porthos asked.

"They wanted a man we had been caring for," Jean finally decided to say. If he was careful, he could enlist the help of these men to find his daughter.

"Who was this man," Athos asked.

"We do not know. My daughter found him beside a creek in the woods, and we brought him back here to care for. My daughter has a tender heart, and has never been able to resist taking wounded creatures under her care."

"Where is your daughter, monsieur? Porthos asked.

Jean looked up at him, his face, unknown to him, almost an open book to the experienced Musketeers, as he wondered what he should say so he wouldn't look involved.. "I ...do not know. I ...had to go on a short business trip, and ...when I came back, she was gone and so was the young man," Jean said. "Then, these men came."He kept hesitating as he spoke, like he was unsure of himself.

"What did you tell them? Porthos said, voice dangerously low, as he didn't know if he trusted this man.

Again, Jean hesitated, like he was thinking. "That maybe she and the young man went into the woods around the place she had found him , as he had been asking about some missing items."

D'Artagnan,while they had been speaking, had checked out the back of Jean's head, finding a sizable lump which had rendered him unconscious.

They got a cloth and some water, and tended his wound, laying him on the cot.

Then, they told him they were going to search, but that they would be back soon. Leaving, they walked a short distance from the house to discuss the situation where Jean couldn't overhear.

Porthos said, "I have a bad feeling about that man. He almost sounded as if he was making parts of it up, the way he talked."

Athos said, "I agree. I have the same bad feeling. Why do we not head in the opposite direction as he mentioned? I am thinking he wanted to lead us away from where they really went-for whatever reason."

They turned and headed in the same direction as Aramis and Angelique had gone.

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When the Musketeers had gone, Jean got up, thinking he had to get out of there before either Albert's men or the Musketeers came back for him. He had also told Albert's men the same story he had just told the Musketeers,and when they found he had led them astray (assuming they didn't run into each other and kill each other off in the meantime), they would be back, and furious.

His head still spinning somewhat, he headed up the stairs, and opened the door to leave. A pistol was aimed at his face, and Albert kicked the door the rest of the way open.

"Now, you are going to tell us the truth. Where are they?"

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Aramis and Angelique again made very poor progress that morning, as Aramis simply couldn't move very fast or very far at a time. He denied that he needed rest when Angelique would insist on stopping for a bit, but she could tell he needed it.

She told him, I'm going to wash off this grime on my hands, and I will be right back. Please just rest for me."

Heading for yet another of the many creeks in the woods, she washed off the dirt in the water. Giving into an impulse, she also threw her hair forward over her head, and rinsed off her long tresses.

Still bent over and intent on wringing her hair out, she heard Aramis right behind her. His voice was strangely strained and very quiet as he asked, "Have you always had that birthmark?"

Startled, Angelique nearly fell in the water at the nearness of Aramis' voice. Pulling her hair back and tying it tightly, she turned around. Aramis looked like he had seen a ghost, and was staring at the back of her neck.

"What do you mean? What is a birthmark?"

"It is a ... mark on the skin that a baby can be born with?" His voice still had an element of shock in it as he spoke. She didn't understand what was affecting him so much.

"I have never seen myself except in the water. Is it bad to have such a thing?" she asked.

Aramis was no agitatedly threading his fingers through his hair, obviously disturbed by what he had seen.

"No. Not bad. I have one, too," he replied, turning around and heading back to their temporary camp.

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They reached the hills later in the day, after traveling through lush greenery, the sounds of birds and calling animals around them. At any other time, Angelique would have been delighted with their surroundings, but at the moment, she just felt the approaching danger they could be in. Aramis had been very quiet since their encounter at the stream.

Angelique ran her eyes over the terrain, looking for anything that could both shelter and hide them from sight. Just when she was giving up hope, she saw a patch of dark behind some trees, rocks and scrub, and her eyes lit up. Let it be a cave, she thought. Asking Aramis to wait there, she ran forward to check it out. It was exactly what she had been looking for!

Coming back, she told Aramis, and they slowly and carefully made the laborious, yet short climb to the cave. Looking out from within, she rejoiced, as if she could not make things out very well, neither could anyone looking from without.

Quickly fixing some of the stew she had brought with her in her provisions, they ate mostly in silence,and turned in for the night. She knew something was wrong with Aramis, but was almost afraid to ask him anything further about it. She did not come and sleep next to him that night, but kept to herself in confusion.

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Next morning, they had arisen before it was even light. After fixing some mostly cold porridge, Angelique said to Aramis, "We may be able to stay her for a bit. I will sweep over our tracks for a distance so we cannot be found."

He just nodded, and said he needed to go outside for personal reasons. Heading back to the trees, he thought he heard a twig snap nearby, and froze. He had no weapons with him, if someone had found them. Waiting, he first thought he had been mistaken. Then, he heard it again. Creeping forward, he finally spotted a form ahead of him. Moving forward stealthily, he was almost up to the man, when suddenly without warning, the man's elbow slammed backward into him, and he crumpled limply to the ground.


	11. Chapter 11

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Angelique had interrupted her mission of cleaning away their tracks when she began to feel she needed to get back to Aramis. She had no idea where the feeling had come from, but it was strong, so she headed back the way she had seen him go.

Aramis had mentioned personal business, but being a gentleman she knew he didn't want to use plain language with her, so described it that way. She made her way back to the base of the hill their hideaway was in, and began moving through the trees looking for him. She had gone about 50 feet when she saw him. She thought he was behaving rather oddly, moving very slowly and slightly crouched. What in the world was he doing, she thought.

Then, she saw the figure of a man slightly ahead of Aramis. She realized Aramis was sneaking up behind the man, not knowing who it was, but assuming it must be one of the bandits they were trying to stay ahead of. Angelique pulled out her father's pistol, and moved quietly towards Aramis.

Whoever the unknown man was, though, with no warning, slammed his elbow behind him, hitting Aramis low on his right side. Aramis sank silently to the ground.

Angelique screamed, emerging from the trees pointing her pistol at the man who had hit Aramis, saying, "Don't move!" She fell to her knees beside the fallen Musketeer, crying softly, "Aramis!"

The unknown man stood frozen to the spot, now stunned by the young woman's appearance, the pistol aimed at him, and her cry of Aramis.

From another direction came two more men, drawn by the scream they had just heard. Angelique shakily swung her pistol around at the three of them, not knowing what to do. She needed to take care of Aramis, but she didn't dare let her guard down against these men.

One of the newcomers raised a hand slowly, and said,"Mademoiselle, do not be afraid. I am Athos. We are King's Musketeers, and we will not harm you." Since Angelique was kneeling next to Aramis, from the direction Athos had come he could not yet see who she was protecting.

"If you are King's Musketeers, who is he?", she asked, nodding her head in the direction of Aramis' assailant.

"He is also one of us," Athos replied. Indicating the man he was with, he said, "This is Porthos, and that is d'Artagnan," nodding to the still mute d'Artagnan.

"If you are Musketeers, why did he," indicating d'Artagnan, "hit my friend here?", moving slightly, and Athos and Porthos gasped when they saw their long-sought brother lying on the ground.

D'Artagnan now found his voice, although it sounded strained from his shock. "I did not know who was coming up behind me. There are men after Aramis, and it could have been one of them. I would never hit my brother," saying this with tears forming in his eyes.

"Mademoiselle, we are going to drop our weapons to the ground. May we then come and help you to take care of our brother?"

Angelique was in a quandary,as she saw each of them take off their various weapons and drop them in front of themselves slowly. She didn't know what to do. If they were friends, she would welcome their presence with open arms, but what if they were trying to trick her to finish Aramis off? Then, she looked at the big, dark-skinned man standing beside Athos. He had yet to speak at all, but she saw his eyes glistening with tears as he looked at the silent form of Aramis on the ground. Shifting her gaze to the left, the other man was just as emotional. That told her what she needed to know, and she laid her pistol on the ground.

Athos and Porthos were at Aramis' side in an instant, their experienced eyes roving over their brother seeking where he was hurt. The found it quickly, their hearts nearly stopping when they spied the large amount of blood staining his shirt on his lower right side.

Angelique told them, "He had been wounded both there and on his left temple. They were healing well, and then this happened," directing a glare at the silent d'Artagnan, who still hadn't moved from where he had stood since they had come upon the scene.

Athos asked her, "Do you have a shelter nearby? We need to get him off the damp ground and out of sight to tend his wounds."

She told him, "We found a cave partway up the hill in back of us. We can bring him back there. I will lead you."

Porthos gently gathered Aramis' still form, raising him and cradling him in his arms. Athos and Porthos started to follow Angelique, then Athos turned around and said to d'Artagnan, "We need your assistance, d'Artagnan. We can discuss this later."

D'Artagnan followed along in their wake, feeling shell-shocked and ridden with guilt about his brother.

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Albert and his men were more than a little frustrated, and furious with the man they had beaten up earlier that day. He had finally gasped out the direction he believed the Musketeer had taken, and they had headed for the road in the distance. Jean's property was bordered on three sides by forest, and the road was on the fourth side. They had followed it for several miles before realizing they had once more been duped.

Albert said to his men, "We are going back to that man's house and finishing him. Then, we will divide up, and search the forest in the other two directions. We have to find that Musketeer soon!"

Riding hard, it didn't take them long to come back to the house. But after searching, they found no trace of Jean. He had simply vanished. Even angrier now, they spread out to search for the Musketeer, and a bonus would be the death of the man they now considered a traitor, in the slowest way possible.

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Reaching the hidden cave, Porthos laid Aramis gently down near the fire Angelique had started that morning. Opening the small medic bag they had thought to bring along hoping to find their wounded comrade, Athos pulled out the needed supplies, wishing he didn't have to be the one who had to take care of the wound.

They removed Aramis' doublet as carefully as possible, then opened his shirt. Using a cloth, Athos gingerly wiped away some of the blood flowing from the wound. They could then see the torn stitches of the formerly partially-healed wound. It was now red and angry-looking and gaping open.

Athos gave a long sigh, then looked up at Porthos. "There is only one thing we can do now."

Porthos slowly nodded his head, having seen enough bullet wounds in his life as a Musketeer to recognize what Athos was telling him.

Athos slowly drew his main gauche and laid it in the flames of the campfire to heat, dreading with all his heart what he had to do. "I just pray he doesn't wake up while we are doing this. He is in enough pain as it is."

Angelique ran to him, grabbing his arm, frantic. "What are you doing? You said he was your friend, and you are going to use a knife on him? What kind of a friend is that?"

Athos laid his hand softly on her arm. "His wound is torn open. There is no way to close it and prevent infection now except by cauterizing it. Believe me, I do not want to do this, but it is the only way to save his life."

Angelique sank back, worry for Aramis' life running through her mind. He had come into her life so unexpectedly, and she was realizing just how much he was coming to mean to her. Already meant to her. He couldn't die, he just couldn't.

Athos told Porthos, "Hold him as still as you can."

Turning to d'Artagnan, who had been standing near the cave entrance, Athos said, "D'Artagnan!" When he got no response, his voice became louder and commanding. "D'Artagnan!"

Finally getting his attention, Athos told him, "Whatever happened before, we will discuss it later. Right now, I need you to hold Aramis' legs absolutely still. Can you do that?"

Silent for a moment, d'Artagnan slowly nodded and took his position at Aramis feet, clamping down on his legs, as Porthos applied pressure to his brother's shoulders.

Athos realized he first had to take the broken stitches out, as if they remained, they could enter the wound and possibly cause an infection. Gingerly beginning, he tried to pull them out as gently as possible. They all came out, except for one stubborn piece that nearly fell into the wound before he caught it in time. Then, he slowly pulled the white-hot knife from the flames, and readied himself for what he had to do, wishing someone else was able to take his place. He didn't want to inflict this kind of agony on the brother he loved so much. In one swift move, he laid the knife down flat on the wound. As soon as he had done this, Aramis came awake with a ragged scream, his body arching off the ground in his agony. But Porthos and d'Artagnan held him firmly, as he cried out and his body shuddered with the pain.

Once Athos took the knife away, Aramis' whole body went absolutely still.


	12. Chapter 12

With his brother's scream still echoing in his mind, Athos flung his main gauche at the wall, where it clattered to the ground, the only sound now in the cave, despite the presence of four people.

They bandaged the wound, and drew a blanket over him, up to his chin. Athos cupped Aramis' cheek, saying, "We are all here for you, and will keep you safe. Fight for us, Aramis, please." He blinked away tears, that for him, were a rare occurrence, only happening when he was scared for one of his brothers, as now.

Aramis looked so still. His skin was dreadfully pale, and his breathing continued to be ragged and shallow. The thought of losing his brother tore at Athos' heart. He had to live. His infectious love for life, his fierce loyalty and love for his brothers, his tender heart made him one of the most loved of the Musketeers. Athos knew it would break something in him, in all of them, if they lost him. He shook his head fiercely. They would not lose the brother they loved so much. He would not even contemplate it seriously. It just couldn't happen!

Looking up, he saw that Porthos and d'Artagnan were touching Aramis, as well. It was their way of letting Aramis know he wasn't alone, and that they loved him. Porthos' fingers gently threaded their way through Aramis' hair, his other hand grasping his hand.

Athos, looking at d'Artagnan's stricken face, motioned to him to come away towards the cave entrance. Once there, Athos said, "What happened?"

D'Artagnan was silent. Athos prompted him, "D'Artagnan?"

Finally looking up at his mentor's eyes, d'Artagnan spoke so softly, Athos had to strain to hear what he said.

"I was searching for tracks as we had agreed to do. I heard a slight movement behind me, and it sounded like it was slowly moving closer. I didn't ... I didn't...know who it was. We knew that the 'bandits' were somewhere in the area, and I thought..."

"You thought it might have been the enemy approaching," Athos finished the sentence for him.

"Yes," d'Artagnan went on, his voice now slightly easier to hear. "If the man had a gun and I turned around, he could have used it on me. So I did the only thing I could think of to stop his approach. I ... I threw my elbow back..." not able to go on as his tears started to fall.

"D'Artagnan, Aramis would be the first to tell you that you had no way of knowing it was him behind you. And he had no way of knowing it was you he was approaching. It was a tragic accident, as painful as it has turned out to be to find out it was Aramis. But he will not blame you, nor do I."

D'Artagnan was sobbing now, and Athos, not a person generally given to physical contact, put his arm around his shoulders as d'Artagnan turned his head and lay it on his shoulders.

They were pulled out of this moment by a painful gasp behind them. Both men turned and hurried to the side of their brother, who was now partially conscious and trying to lift himself up off the ground.

Porthos held him back down, gently but firmly. "Aramis, please don't go destroying Athos' work. Moving can break open that wound of yours. Stay still."

Athos added his voice to Porthos' entreaty, saying, "I know you are in pain and confused, Aramis. We are all here for you. You are safe. Your wound was torn open, and we have taken care of it. Please, for us, stay still so you can begin to heal."

His voice was soft and firm, letting Aramis know he was not alone, was not in danger, and that his brothers were with him. Aramis slowly calmed down, his body ceasing its frantic attempts to move. After a few moments, his breathing, though still rapid and shallow, deepened as consciousness once more fled. There worry increased, however, as they could feel the warmth of his body as they had been calming him down. If the fever that had developed increased, it could still take him from them.

As they settled down around Aramis, Porthos slowly turned in d'Artagnan's direction, an accusing glint in his eye. He had overheard most of the conversation, softly spoken as it had been. Athos, seeing the look, said warningly, "Porthos!"

Porthos looked at Athos,then slowly again looked towards d'Artagnan. "This isn't over."

D'Artagnan moved away from the fire at that, busying himself with stirring the fire up and setting a pot on to make some porridge, as none of them had eaten that day yet.

"Porthos, we need to stick together until Aramis is out of danger. He does not need us at each other's throats when he is fighting for his life. And he will notice, if he comes to, that the atmosphere is very tense. You know that. We need to be a united presence for him-for his sake."

Porthos was silent for a moment or two, then slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, you're right. He will sense any disturbance with us, he always does. But this isn't over, Athos."

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As much as they didn't want any confrontations with the 'bandits', they were still surprised that there had been no sign of them that day. Angelique's father must have sent them off in another wrong direction. It had been an unexpected bonus, as they had not wanted to have a pitched battle with their brother lying unconscious in the middle of it.

Angelique had been very silent through the morning. Her eyes watched them taking care of Aramis, but she stayed to one side. But they saw the look in her eyes when she glanced at Aramis. She cared very deeply about their brother.

Finally, in the early afternoon, she approached Athos, recognizing him as their leader from her observations.

"Monsieur, is he going to live, please?" she asked, anxiety coloring every word.

Athos told her, "We have done everything we can. We just have to wait now. If the wound does not become infected and his fever does not get worse, he will live. At the moment,

Toward evening, Aramis began to get restless, his head tossing from side to side as he moaned from the pain he was in.

Porthos leaned down and said, "Aramis, it's Porthos. Can you open your eyes for us? You been sleeping most of the day. We need to get some water and food into you, you know," teasing the medic in him, knowing that if Aramis could hear him, that fact would probably get him to try.

After a few moments, exhausted, pain-filled eyes flickered open.

All three of his brothers broke into grins at the sight.

Athos commented, "It is good to see you awake, Aramis. We have been just a little concerned."

Porthos asked him, "How do you feel?"

Aramis tried to answer, only to begin coughing. Porthos lifted his upper body a little, while Athos held a cup to his lips to drink. The coughing eased up when he had taken several small sips.

"Hurts," he said.

Anxiety ratcheted up when they heard that. Aramis never admitted how much pain he was in, going to great lengths sometimes to hide any discomfort from everyone. For him to say it hurt was the same as saying the pain was unbearable.

Athos wondered if the medic bag they had retrieved from Aramis' horse when they had found it might have pain meds. Unfortunately, even if it did, they didn't know enough to recognize one bottle from another. Aramis had recently redone his bag, putting meds in various colored bottles, but the meaning of each color was lost to anyone but him. If they all got back to the garrison alive, Athos was determined to sit down and go over the bottle with Aramis so this situation would not arise again. But in the meantime, they were going to need to ask Aramis to look them over to see which would help him right now.

"Aramis, if I bring your bag over to you, could you tell me which will help you with the pain and fever?"

Aramis seemed to be slightly slow in picking up what was said to him. At first, he didn't answer, just gazed tiredly at Athos.

Athos was just about to ask again, when Aramis nodded his head a fraction. Relieved, Athos went and got the bag, tipping it sideways so Aramis could look in without moving and creating more discomfort for him.

"The smallest black one is a pain med. There are no meds for fever," he whispered. "The pain med can be given once a day, but no more. It is powerful."

Athos was very glad to hear that, as he wanted so much to relieve his brother from the overwhelming agony he could tell he was in. Tilting the bottle to Aramis' lips, he made sure only a tiny amount was taken. Aramis, after a few moments, once more lost consciousness, but they were happy that it could be a less turbulent rest for their beleageured brother now. His facial expression looked much more peaceful, indicating a deeper level of rest, and they all knew how healing rest was for the body.


	13. Chapter 13

_I definitely made some grammatical mistakes in the last chapter. Sorry about that, and about taking so long to post again. Life, in the form of medical tests, got in the way._

Aramis slept through the night, barely moving at all. Athos and Porthos took turns sitting with him, monitoring his condition. They didn't know if Angelique knew enough about wounds, so they suggested she get rest for when they would need to be moving again. As for d'Artagnan, he wouldn't come anywhere near where Porthos was at the moment, as he knew he wasn't wanted there, so he stayed sitting on the far side of the cave, arms crossed as he rested. But his eyes never left his injured brother.

Aramis became restless once again come morning, and Athos and Porthos decided it was time to see if they could get him to take a little warm broth. Any nourishment they could coax into him would give him a chance to regain his strength.

They waited patiently for him to come slowly awake again. When his eyes slowly opened, Porthos teased him. "You sure you got enough rest, brother? We figured you were having some sweet lady dreams, and didn't want to return to the land of the living," he said, with a chuckle

Aramis gave him a mock glare, but the corners of his lips turned up at the small attempt at humor.

Athos asked him, "Would you like to try a little chicken broth? Hopefully, it will stay down, as you really do need it."

Aramis nodded, and while Porthos held him up enough to eat, Athos spoon-fed the broth. He ended up taking all the broth, which made his brothers very happy. Porthos laid him down again.

Aramis saw d'Artagnan sitting at the far end of the cave, looking utterly dejected. Although his voice was soft and very scratchy, Aramis called out to him.

"D'Artagnan?"

It didn't matter how quietly Aramis called, d'Artagnan heard him instantly, as his whole attention had been focused on his brother for hours. He hesitated to come, though.

Aramis turned to Porthos. "Could you give us a moment, please?" Porthos silently and reluctantly retreated further back into the cave.

Aramis once more called, "D'Artagnan, please?"

Unable to resist his plea, d'Artagnan slowly rose and made his way to Aramis' side, his head hanging every step of the way. When he was beside him, he couldn't look him in the eye.

"D'Artagnan?" Aramis said softly. Still, his brother wouldn't meet his eye.

"D'Artagnan, you were not to blame for what happened. You know that, do you not?"

D'Artagnan finally looked into Aramis' eyes, guilt written all over his face. "If I had not hit you, you would not have almost died. It was all my fault."

"D'Artagnan, you did not know who was coming up behind you, just as I had no idea it was you I was approaching", unknowingly almost echoing Athos' earlier words to d'Artagnan. "It was just a tragic accident. I do not blame you. It was not at all your fault, brother."

But d'Artagnan still looked sick at heart. "If you had died...", he couldn't go on.

"But I did not die. The only tragedy now would be if you continued to blame yourself for this. I love you, brother, and that has not changed, nor will it change. Please, do not tear yourself apart for something that was not your fault. That would hurt me far more than this injury ever could."

When he had said this, Aramis tried to lift his arm to his brother. Pain brought a swift halt to his gesture, but d'Artagnan had seen it, and leaning down, laid his hands gently on either side of Aramis' face, and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, before rising and going to make breakfast for them all with a far lighter expression on his face than before.

Porthos, observing all this, let his resentment and anger at d'Artagnan fade away. If his brother could forgive him, who was he to hold onto his anger? The brothers were united once more.

Aramis, worn out completely from the emotional encounter, was asleep a few moments later, a serene look on his face despite the level of pain he was in.

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Deciding to let Aramis get more much-needed rest, they thought they could instead give him a little larger lunch at midday.

Athos, who with the others, had seen the way Angelique was keeping a distant watch on Aramis, went to her at midday and asked, "Would you like to give Aramis his midday broth, Angelique?"

Her face instantly lit up. "May I, please?"

When he nodded, she went to Aramis and lightly laid her hand on his shoulder. "Aramis? Would you wake up for some nourishment, please?"

Aramis at first didn't respond. Then, slowly his lids opened, and sleepy chocolate brown eyes gazed up into hers. "Angelique?"

"Yes, Aramis. Athos said I could give you some broth. Porthos here," indicating his brother, who had silently reached Aramis' side, "can hold you up a little, if you are ready?"

He nodded, so Porthos lifted his shoulders, and she got him to finish the whole bowl. Smiling at him, she laid a hand softly on his cheek and said, "Well done."

Porthos was observing her tender expression, and coming to the same conclusion Athos had already reached. He thought to himself-he can charm the ladies when he isn't even able to move. They fall all over him! That's my brother!

Angelique made a movement to rise, but Aramis stopped her, saying, "Would you stay a moment, please, Angelique?"

Sitting back down, Angelique turned a quizzical face to him, and said, "Is there something else I can do for you? Just ask."

Aramis was silent a moment before saying, "Have you and your father lived always out here in the countryside, Angelique? Do you remember ever living anywhere else-when you were little, perhaps?"

She wondered at his question,but answered, saying, "I do not remember ever living anywhere else, Aramis. And it has always been just my father and I. Why do you ask?"

Aramis was silent again, before asking, "Just curiosity, I guess. Thank you for the meal, Angelique." His lids grew progressively more heavy, until he once more fell asleep, worn out by the meal and the talk.

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Just after nightfall, as d'Artagnan was keeping watch, he heard faint rustling noises down below. Alerting Athos and Porthos, they decided Porthos would stay with Aramis and Angelique, while Athos and d'Artagnan checked out what had made the noises. If it wasn't a large animal, it may very well be the 'bandits' had caught up with them at last.


	14. Chapter 14

Porthos kept a vigilant watch at the cave entrance, while Athos and d'Artagnan silently moved down the slope from the cave, listening for any further sounds of movement. It was silent, and they had just begun to think it had indeed been a large, nocturnal animal, when Athos spied movement to his left.

Signaling to d'Artagnan, they split up and approached from opposite directions. D'Artagnan reached the spot first, and promptly tackled the man crouching in hiding. Punching him in the head, the man slumped to the ground as Athos arrived.

Squinting in the dark, Athos reacted with surprise, as he said, "It is Jean, Angelique's father. Since we do not yet know whose side he has decided to be on, tie his hands behind him. We will bring him back to the cave with us."

Shortly after, they brought Jean into the cave. Angelique ran to her father, saying, "Papa, why did you come here?" She was still upset that he he had been going to tell the 'bandits' who hurt Aramis where he was.

"I felt bad for what I did. They could have killed you, Angelique," her father replied.

The Musketeers were sceptical of Jean's brief explanation. They thought it far more likely that Jean had come searching for them because he was now afraid of his former 'business associates'. All three of them, unknowingly, made the same resolution. Jean would be kept under a close scrutiny. He would be given no opportunity to cause Aramis any further harm.

Jean spied the man his daughter had given her loyalty to-over her own father. Aramis had slept through the last hour's events in complete exhaustion. Deep inside, Jean bitterly resented the stricken Musketeer. No one had ever come between he and his daughter. And no one ever would. But his face showed nothing but concern for his daughter. "Are you all right? You've not been hurt? Been able to find enough to eat?"

She told him she was fine, and that she had brought some food with them. Even though she still loved him, she was very upset with her father about the note. She realized he had been trying to protect her, but he was sacrificing an innocent, injured man to do so, and it did not sit well with her at all.

Athos took Angelique aside, and told her, "I am sorry, Angelique. I realize he is your father and that you love him. But we do not know whether we can trust him yet, so we are going to keep him restrained and under guard for the time being. It is true that he gave wrong directions to the men who were after you, but was it because he was protecting you, or because he just did not know where you really were? We cannot be sure of anything right now, so we are being cautious."

Angelique said, "I understand. This is a side of my father that I have never seen before. When I read that note, I could hardly believe my eyes. I know he loves me, but he also does not like my being with Aramis. It would show in his eyes when he would see me taking care of him. He resents it very much, and I have no idea why."

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In the middle of the night, Aramis began to have a nightmare. He became very restless, and was speaking barely above a whisper in an agitated voice. Porthos had been lying beside him, and was up in an instant. Angelique was at Aramis' other side, her hand running through his hair, and softly saying, "It's all right. You were just having a bad dream. It's all right," and took his hand in hers, as Porthos had done with his other hand. He quieted down, and without ever coming fully awake, fell into a calm sleep again. Pothos watched this, thinking 'she is falling in love with him'.

Jean, near the back wall of the cave, had seen what happened, too. When Angelique finally laid Aramis' hand down again, he called out quietly but angrily to her, "You do not know what you are doing, daughter. This cannot be. It is against nature."

By now, all the Musketeers had awakened by the disturbance. They heard what Jean had said, and were at a loss to know what to make of it-against nature? Jean saw that he had been heard, and suddenly clammed up. It wouldn't do to focus too much attention on the scene, not if he didn't want to have to explain himself. He didn't want to hurt his daughter by telling her.

Angelique was so confused by her father's outburst. She knew he didn't like her to be with Aramis, and that he didn't want her to like him. But what could he possibly mean by what he had said. It made no sense to her at all.

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In the morning, Aramis seemed to be feel a little better. He ate every bit of the breakfast Porthos had brought to him. Then, he drank the whole cup of water given him, and stayed awake afterward, completely aware now. His brothers saw this, and felt better than they had for some time now. Their brother was going to recover.

While Angelique stayed with Aramis, Athos and his brothers gathered to decide what to do next.

Athos said, "We need to get back to the garrison. Aramis may be able to travel as soon as tomorrow, if we are careful. He can travel double with you, Porthos. Now, we need to figure out how to get out of here as cautiously as possible. We do not know where Aramis' pursuers are, but it is safe to say that two of the four directions away from the house are crossed off their lists now, after Jean led them astray twice."

Porthos said quietly, "And we don't know if he just came from them, either." The others nodded, having thought the same thing themselves

Athos turned to their youngest brother. "D'Artagnan, go down the slope, and reconnoitre. See if there is any sign of them. Then, see if there is a possible route we can take to get back to the horses."

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The 'bandits' were still livid at being duped twice by Jean. They had a burning desire to get this finished, and kill off their opponents. All that is but the injured one, the one who had been carrying the document they had been hired to get. Albert thought to himself-he will be sorry he caused us the amount of trouble we have been put through. They stood at Jean and Angelique's house again. They had just tried the third direction, and run into a dead end. There was only one more route, and they were now confident they would be triumphant in their mission very soon as they headed towards the foothills in the distance.


	15. Chapter 15

Jean was at his wit's end trying to figure out what to do. He had partially loosened the ropes by rubbing them against a stone he had found while feeling around in back of him. But what would he do if he did get loose? He couldn't fight three fully-armed Musketeers. He knew how highly skilled Musketeers were, and he would be dead in a matter of moments. But he had to do something to get free, and to get his daughter away from the Musketeer before her daughter's life was ruined beyond repair.

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D'Artagnan came back later saying there was as yet no sign of the 'bandits'. Athos then made a decision. Telling the others to pack up their things and get the horses ready, he moved over to Aramis, and gently nudging his shoulder, said, "Brother, we need to move while we can. Do you think you feel well enough to ride with Porthos?"

Aramis, more alert than he had been previously, answered, "Of course. I'm fine (as Athos just rolled his eyes at the comment). We need to move before we are found," and suiting his actions to his words, began to lift himself off the ground. The moment he moved, pain shot through him, but he bit back the groan that was threatening to come forth, and continued. He didn't want to be the reason his brothers and Angelique might become trapped in the cave.

Athos had his doubts as to whether Aramis was in any shape to ride, but held back a comment, knowing they didn't have much choice in the matter. They could all be dead if the 'bandits' found them and trapped them for very didn't have enough food and supplies to sustain a long siege, and they might all perish in the end.

D'Artagnan brought the horses to the cave entrance, and Porthos mounted, while Athos and d'Artagnan lifted Aramis up in front of him. Angelique rode with Athos, and d'Artagnan got Jean up in front of him. They then made their careful way down the slope and into the forest again, deciding to go the way they knew for sure that their pursuers had already looked for them-the first wrong direction Jean had sent them on, hoping they wouldn't be wrong, or wouldn't be spotted.

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Jean was beginning to feel desperate. He needed to take action, but didn't quite know what action to take. He needed to get his daughter away from the Musketeer as soon as possible, but sitting in front of one of the Musketeers with his hands tied, he hadn't a clue yet how he could accomplish that. But he had surmounted tough obstacles before, so he just sat quietly pondering.

They had almost got to the point where Angelique had first found Aramis when their luck seemed to run out. They spotted mounted riders heading their way.

Athos shouted, "Get everyone off and behind the trees. Quickly!" Suiting his actions to his words, he leaped off his horse and led it behind the line of trees.

Everyone else swiftly followed. Jean tried dragging his feet to slow d'Artagnan down, but the Musketeer wasn't having any of the delay tactics. He simply grabbed Jean by the scruff of his shirt, and almost dragged him to join the others.

The Musketeers were wondering now whose side Jean was really on. He had seemed to be running from their pursuers, but they had all seen how he had just now literally refused to get to shelter from their pursuers. They all resolved to keep an even closer eye on him. They couldn't afford to have a traitor in their midst.

Their concern for the riders turned out to be a false alarm. The riders were on an errand for their master, the Marquis d'Aumont. The men passed on in peace once they found out who the Musketeers were.

The Musketeers continued on their way through the forest, seeing and hearing no other potential threats along the way. Stopping for the night finally, they set up camp. D'Artagnan secured Jean, tying his hands around the back of a tree for the night. After a light supper, they retired, weary from the travel that day. Athos took first watch, relieved by Porthos after several hours.

Jean watched as the Musketeers changed watch, finally having managed to get a hand free from the ropes. It wasn't for nothing that he had been one of the elite scouts in the army years ago, and he had learned many tricks along the way. It took only a few moments to release his other hand, as well. Slowly sliding himself back into the trees, he skirted the edge of the camp and came up behind Porthos, now armed with a stout piece of oak branch he had picked up along the way. He slipped forward silently and swiftly, and when he was near enough, swung the makeshift club hard at Porthos' head, rendering him unconscious as quietly and efficiently as he had done to France's enemies as an army front man.

He now moved even more swiftly back around the camp until he reached his had been sound asleep, but something had awakened him. Before he could even take a moment to wonder what had disturbed him, a hand came from behind, slamming hard over his mouth to silence him. Pain, sudden and swift, exploded in his head, and he knew no more as darkness claimed him.

Jean lifted and threw Aramis over his left shoulder, turning and melting into the forest immediately behind him with his burden. He moved with speed and intimate knowledge of the forest around him, getting as far away as he could before anyone awoke and discovered not only their prisoner missing, but their friend, as well.

He knew the forest extremely well, having been born and raised in the area. He also knew exactly where he wanted to go to dispose of Aramis. If all went according to his hastily thought-out plan, no one would ever find the Musketeer before it was too late.

He had a conscience, and it was speaking to him now that it was utterly wrong to do what he was doing. What harm had this Musketeer ever done him, it asked. Who was breaking the law, him or this man? But he ignored these thoughts, telling himself he had to do this to preserve his daughter's reputation and allow her to live on in the innocent life she had been raised in. He couldn't allow this man, innocent though he might be, to endanger his daughter in any way. His thoughts settled, he kept running, further and further into the dark and dense forest.

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Porthos came to with a massive headache. Reaching a hand up to rub the back of his head, he looked around in confusion. But the confusion disappeared as fear clutched at his heart. Aramis was missing! Then, he noticed that Jean was nowhere to be found, either.

"Athos!" he shouted.

Athos and d'Artagnan were at his side in a moment, concern evident in their faces as they saw the look on his face.

"Aramis is gone, and so is Jean," Porthos said, his voice breaking from fear for his friend.

They all moved swiftly to where Aramis had been lying, and their hearts clenched when they saw blood on the ground. Jean's ropes were lying on the ground. He had obviously taken Aramis and run, but why? What threat was Aramis to him?

Angelique had now awakened, and looked at them in concern. "Where are Aramis and my papa?" she asked.

"We do not know, Angelique," Athos answered. "But he seems to have taken Aramis hostage, wherever he has gone. Do you know of anywhere near that he might be going?"

But Angelique told them, "I have never been this far into the woods before. My papa was born around here, though. He knows the forest like the back of his hand. He hunts in here all the time."

They looked at each other in concern. They didn't know the area, and would be trying to find a man who knew it intimately, and who didn't want to be found. To make their situation even more dire, the 'bandits' they had been trying to elude could, at any time, begin looking for them in this area. They needed to find Aramis as soon as possible.


	16. Chapter 16

Aramis gradually began to regain consciousness. The first thing he noticed was that his head was throbbing. What had happened, he dazedly wondered, not completely able to use all his faculties yet. Then, he noticed that he seemed to be hanging over something, and the something was moving-very quickly.

He tried to move,and found that his hands and feet were bound with rope, very tightly. His mouth was bound as well, with some kind of rough-feeling cloth, and the taste in his mouth made him slightly nauseous.

With a muffled groan, he forced open his eyes. He was being carried over someone's shoulder, and that someone was moving at a good speed. He vaguely noticed trees all around him, which finally brought full consciousness back. They were in the forest! Who...

Jean had felt the slight movement of his burden, and the cut-off groan. Smiling to himself, he said, "Finally awake, are we? With the headache you are probably suffering from right now, it would have been a mercy if you had stayed asleep til we get where we are going. But that's life!"

Aramis was aching all over. The constant movement of his body against Jean's body didn't help any,either. Why would Jean... Again, he paused. Was Jean this angry that Angelique liked him? He had experienced angry husbands and brothers in his past, but nothing this crazy! And where was he being taken to, and for what?

The questions ran around in his head, but no matter which way he looked at it, he knew he was in deep trouble, and unable to do anything about it. He knew enough about knots to know that Jean was an expert at tying them, and the ropes around his wrists refused to even budge an inch.

Jean was talking again. He knew he had a captive audience, and was enjoying himself.

"It really is too bad that my daughter had to fall for you, Musketeer. I liked you. You seemed to be a nice-enough man. But it is a sin for her to fall in love with you. The blood is too close. I will not see my daughter's life ruined, and I do not have the heart to break her heart by telling her she is not allowed to fall in love with her brother. So, I have no choice in the matter really. You need to disappear permanently before it is too late."

Aramis froze when he heard that. Jean was intending to remove him from the picture? The man was going to murder him to protect his daughter, because he was too much of a coward to tell her the truth? He began to struggle now, knowing his life was going to be forfeit if he couldn't get away from this man.

Jean just laughed. Then, he yanked hard on the rope attached to Aramis' wrists, causing Aramis to again groan, the sound almost completely muffled by the gag.

"If you continue to struggle, I will just have to knock you out again. I don't think your head would respond well to a second knock right where I landed the first one, do you, Musketeer?" he sneered at the helpless man over his shoulder.

"Very good," he said, as he felt Aramis halt his struggles. "You're not a fool then. But you are probably thinking you will try again when we reach our destination. It won't happen. I am taking you somewhere that is hidden. Your friends could run right by it, and never see you."

"You see," he continued, "I know this woods like the back of my hand. I grew up here. I know every nook and cranny of it, and all its hiding places. Where I am taking you, no one has ever been except my papa and I, when I was a young lad.

My papa and I used to come here hunting. He taught me about everything in these woods. I could probably roam these woods blindfolded, and find my way around, I know it that well. Angelique has the same love for the forest as I do. Took to them the same as me.

She is a child of nature. She is not a child destined for the kind of life she and your mama lived. It is a sin to even think of doing the kind of thing she did for a living. My daughter will remain a young woman of clean morals and a tender heart."

Aramis couldn't believe he was hearing this man talk about sin, when he was about to do what he had planned. He was as mad as a hatter!

Jean continued talking about his childhood, as if he was discussing it with a friend. Then, he began talking about his life as a young man. He had been a highly-trained soldier, a scout who had absorbed everything the army could teach him. Aramis silently thought, except the difference between right and wrong.

Jean was talking so relaxed and conversationally, that it made the hackles raise on Aramis' neck to hear him. The man was not right in the head, and he fully intended to kill him to keep a family secret!

Jean was continuing as they now neared their destination. "We are almost there. Soon, my problems are going to be all over. You, unfortunately, will die a very uncomfortable death out here. It shouldn't last more than 3-4 days for you. It can't be helped. It is the only way. Here we are!"

He came to an abrupt halt beside a creek bed. Aramis could see the creek at the bottom of a very high bank, overgrown with trees, brush and creepers. The thought came to him: is he going to throw me off here? Natural fear asserted itself at the thought. He was a brave man, a soldier in the King's elite, the Musketeers, and had never feared death. But this was an unnatural way to die: hidden far into the woods, killed for a secret.

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Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan began their search, having found footprints leading away from the camp. They could see that the footprints were heavier than a normal man might leave, which led them to think he was carrying Aramis. What kind of shape was their brother in, they wondered, worry furrowing their brows at the thought. Angelique followed along behind them, as they couldn't leave her behind alone, with the possibility that the 'bandit's might find her.

They had been following for a short while when the trail abruptly disappeared. They figured that Jean had obliterated his prints to prevent his being followed. What had he done with Aramis while he was doing this?

They had no choice but to continue in the same direction. They hoped Jean would think they didn't know which direction he was going, and continue on the same way the trail had been leading.

The further they ventured into the trees, the darker the surroundings became. The woods were alive with hidden activity, as they heard myriads of birds singing, sounds of other animals in the brush, saw bees and other insects busy about their business. The air was filled with the scents of various trees and wildflowers, their tiny heads peeping up around the bases of trees. The Musketeers kept an eye out for tree roots and for creepers, avoiding getting their feet entangled with the number of them underfoot.

At one point, they stopped to take a quick breather, having been moving quickly for several hours, when they saw movement near a stand of trees. Motionless, they saw a deer peek it's head out from behind one of the trees, and having seen them, leaped across the open space in front of them, and promptly melted into the trees on the other side of the clearing, disappearing completely. Waiting a moment before they moved on, they watched as five more of the beautiful animals imitated their leader, until the clearing was once more bare. At any other time, they would have enjoyed the spectacle, but now they were impatient to continue their hunt.

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Jean began to climb down the side of the creekbed, his helpless passenger swinging from his shoulder. Most creekbeds were not nearly so steep, but this one may have been older and its water movements just having dug much deeper. Aramis became more and more uneasy the lower they went.

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I've had several pm's me asking about how I've described my forest scenes. How did I know so much?

I lived at the edge of 170 acres of woodlands surrounding a 4-acre lake for 5 years in Kentucky. I wandered the woods for at least an hour every day right after lunch. I absolutely loved it! Woods/forests have always been my favorite aspect of nature, so you can imagine how much I enjoyed it!

Almost all of the places where I describe being in the woods/forests were actual experiences that I had, including the one in this chapter with the deer appearing. The only differences from what happened to me were that it was the dirt path I was on that they leaped over, literally maybe 10 feet ahead of me, and the fact that with me, there were 15 deer who did this, not 6! The creek beds were exactly as I experienced, with the overhanging trees, shrubs and creepers tangling their way down to the water. The creepers covered a lot of the ground in the woods, too, so I just got used to being cautious to the point that I instinctively moved through them. And yes, a lot of the creeks were shallower, but there were a few that were much deeper to get down to, just like the one in this chapter. The first creekbed I ever slid down to was this way. I was somewhat 'messy' when I actually arrived at the water!

When I would be in the deepest area of the forest, I found a clearing where no light came from the sun overhead,as the trees were so thick overhead. Dozens of different birds were lazily flitting from place to place, joyfully singing their hearts out. So lovely!

I am an artist, too, and one of my favorite things to draw are trees, so I reveled in sometimes bringing my pad and pencils with me, and drawing in the beauty and seclusion I was enclosed in.


	17. Chapter 17

Thank you for all the lovely pm's about my woods experiences. I have enjoying sharing my love for my favorite part of nature with you.

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Jean finally reached the bottom, and without any warning, bent over and dropped Aramis to the ground. He was unable to use his hands to soften his fall, and landed hard on his face. Jean came over then, and roughly turned him on his side, then pulled him over against the bank of the creek.

Then, he seemed to freeze for a moment, turning slowly again towards Aramis, speaking quietly and respectfully.

"I'm really sorry this had to end this way, Aramis. I do not have any control over the outcome any more. I hope the elements take you quickly, so you do not suffer too long. I am sure my daughter will mourn for you. She really does care for you a lot. You are the first man she has ever spent much time around besides myself. I am hoping it will not be too hard on her. It was just your misfortune to come into our lives."

Hesitating again, he turned and walked away. Aramis wondered if he was hearing things. The soft-spoken man who had just left his side sounded nothing like the man who had kidnapped him, and was preparing to abandon him to perish! What was going on?

A few minutes later, Jean came back, smiling at Aramis as he came. He made the Musketeer uneasy now. Crouching down next to him, Jean started talking, his voice almost a low growl now.

"This is where you will meet your end, Musketeer. Back against that creek bank, with those overhanging oaks and all the scrubs lining the bank, someone could walk right up to the edge and never see you." Indicating the cloth around Aramis' mouth, he laughed and said, "And you are in no position to enlighten them, now are you?"

The shiver that went down Aramis' spine had nothing to do with the weather, as the man sounded almost gleeful at the prospect of someone's death. And his demeanor, his voice and way of speaking were so different than a few moments ago. Almost like a different man! But that was impossible!

Jean was continuing. "I figure maybe 3 days, but not much longer. You're a young man in good health. It will take a while, especially since the weather isn't too hot or too cold to affect you much. It can get to a man, though, being completely alone and not able to do anything to help himself. My papa used to bring me with him to hunt, and leave me by myself sometimes for hours. It was his way of teaching me about life, I guess. It taught me to learn these woods like I lived in them. I know about all the birds and animals, and the trees. I always brought something fine back to please him. I learned the lessons he taught me well."

Jean got up and pulled Aramis' boots off. "Fine boots, these are. I've always wanted a pair just like this, and now I have some and it came free of cost," laughing again as he pulled the boots on his own feet. "I would take your nice leather doublet and breeches too, as they could do a better job of keeping me warm at night, but it's too much trouble untying and tying you up again. So I will let you keep them. I am a charitable man, after all."

"I remember, when I was a lad and my papa and I would go to Paris for supplies, my papa would bring me with him when he visited 'the ladies'. When I was old enough, he let me visit them, too. That's how I met your mama. The girls back home didn't like how rough I treated them, but the ladies we visited had to do whatever we told them."

Aramis, listening to all of this, knew without a doubt now that the man had serious mental issues. A physician had once told him about a man he had treated who exhibited the characteristics of two entirely different people. And he was in the hands of one of these men now!

"When I found out your mama was expecting, I visited one night and gave her boss some extra money. She let me take Angelique with me. She was the prettiest thing I ever saw, and she loved me right from the start. It has been just her and me all these years. Til you came along," looking down at Aramis with such hatred in his eyes and an air of suppressed violence, that Aramis instinctively tried to back away, but couldn't with the bank behind him.

"But you will be history very soon, and Angelique will be back to her usual self once she gets over mourning for you," he said with a sneer. I will be the apple of her eye as I've always been, and we will resume the way of life we have always lived, in peace and no interruptions."

Getting up, Jean stalked away, obviously still incensed at his perceived notion that Aramis had disrupted his life. Coming back a few minutes later, he said, "I will be leaving now. It's not long until dark. Enjoy the evening, and what time you have left, Musketeer."

He began climbing up the bank, and soon disappeared out of sight. Aramis began sawing away at the ropes, hoping against hope that they might have frayed a bit on the way down the bank. But even though he kept trying for a long time, he had no luck, as they refused to budge. When he finally gave up, the skin on his wrists felt raw and open, and bloody from his frustrated attempts.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he tried not to despair at his situation. He had been in jeopardy more than once in his past, but always then, either he broke free, or his brothers came to his rescue. But this was not remotely like any situation he had ever been in before.

Looking up above him, he began to pray as night started to fall.

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Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan continued to search for Aramis. They found no renewed tracks to follow, so they spread out and kept on the direction they had begun. Finally, near sunset, they ran up against another side of the same foothills as they had left yesterday. It seemed like such a long time ago now. Refusing to let any discouragement reign over them, they decided to camp for the night, and begin again in the morning. Until they found their brother, they would never give up searching.

None of them got much sleep that night, waiting for the light to enable them to begin their search again. But in each of their hearts, the fear gnawed at them of what Jean may be doing with their captive brother.

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Aramis was exhausted from what had happened to him that day, but he forced himself to stay awake. He knew enough about woods and forests to realize that at night, predators came out to hunt for food. He was not in a position to put up much of a fight should they come his way, but he would use whatever parts of his body he could maneuvre to protect himself. Whether that would suffice, he doubted, but he wouldn't just lay there and do nothing.

Under ordinary circumstances, he would have enjoyed a night spent under the thick canopy of leaves, listening to the nightbirds call, the hoots of the owls, the crickets chirping, and other unidentified animals as they roamed in the darkness. But his heightened senses recognized the howls of wolves in the distance, and knew there were always snakes in forested areas. So he remained resolutely awake. His senses also recognized the growing numbness in his arms and legs, the aftereffects of the concussion from the blow to the head Jean had given him, the ache from the partially-healed wound in his side, the discomfort of not being able to move his body more than a few inches for hours now. He forced himself to move his legs back and forth every now and then, hoping it would stave off complete loss of movement from them. He couldn't move his arms as much in the position he was in.

The night seemed to go on forever as he lay there. His mind tried to focus on other things, and immediately Anne and his son came to his mind. He had promised to watch over his son, to keep him safe and protected always. How could he do that now that it looked as if his own life might end soon? The tears came unbidden, silently falling in the silence of the night. And Anne. With Rochefort lurking in the palace. How could he protect her, either? The man was an evil presence that she was unaware of yet.

He wondered idly where Jean had gone when he left, but then left the thought aside, as he was in no position to do anything if he did know. He was unable to protect Angelique if the man had gone back for her. He had faith in his brothers abilities to keep her safe from her deranged father.

As the night wore on, he felt his isolation and helplessness more and more. He had expected to, and would willingly have given his life for his King and for France, not have it taken from him by a madman.

He began to pray once more, his faith giving him the only solace he had left.

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Morning came, and the Musketeers hurriedly began their search again, reversing their direction and heading back the way they had come. There was no other option, as the foothills closed off going any further. Backtracking, maybe they would see something they had missed the day before.

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Aramis had never been so relieved to see the first rays of morning lightening the sky. He had at least survived being attacked in the night when the predators roamed. But it still didn't bring with it any way that he could see to escape his predicament.

His stomach was rumbling from having not eaten since the day before yesterday, and his mouth was beyond dry, both from lack of water and the cloth leeching any other moisture from him. His hands felt like lumps of clay from the ropes. At least, his legs still had a little feeling left, thanks to his awkward attempts at lifting and lowering them from time to time.

He looked around, but there was still nothing he saw that could help him to get free. Nothing sharp or jagged to saw at the ropes-if he could get to it to use it in the first place, he mused to himself.

He had just started the almost hopeless attempts to saw his hands free when he heard it. A low growling sound. Freezing, he looked in the direction the sound had come from. Emerging from the bushes on the other side of the creek was a grey wolf, hackles rising as he came through the water towards him. Aramis' heart rate sped up at the sight. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted further movement, as two more of the animals were heading his way, as well. He tried to slow his breathing, which was verging on panic, as he frantically thought of a way to defend himself against three wolves.

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I'm sorry for leaving you all hanging! I should have another chapter ready in the next 2-3 days, if all goes well.


	18. Chapter 18

The wolf advanced through the creek, growling as he came. It moved slowly, apparently watching to see if there was any resistance. The other two stayed back, letting the middle animal make its approach.

Aramis stayed still, watching it every bit as much as the beast was keeping an eye on him. He had never been so defenseless against an enemy in his life, and continued to search his mind for any way to protect himself.

When the wolf had come within a dozen feet of him, it stopped, sniffing the air. Aramis wasn't sure what it was smelling, but he had the sick feeling it was the blood loss from the broken stitches in his side. He tensed as the wolf moved a few steps closer, and once again stopped.

It then moved slowly forwards, the growling deep in its throat back again. Aramis, moving with difficulty, pointed his legs directly towards the animal. The only thing he was able to do is try to kick at it if it sprang at him.

He no sooner thought this than the beast indeed did attack, mouth open in a howl. Aramis waited til the last possible moment, then kicked out, hitting the animal on its snout. It came to a stop, backing away a short distance, all the time watching him.

The scene began again a few minutes later, Aramis keeping his feet ready, not knowing when it would try again, but sure it would. The wolf again came closer, crouching and watching. It was nerve-wracking as Aramis waited, hoping he would have the same success as the first time.

Finally, it sprang. But Aramis' luck still held, and he again hit the wolf where it hurt, its snout. It again backed off a little way. All this time, the other two had stayed on the other side of the stream, spread to the left and right of the apparent leader. They seemed to be cutting off any escape for their victim, not knowing Aramis couldn't escape, no matter how he longed to do so.

Finally, after waiting for a longer period than the first two times, the wolf came at him again. Aramis tried to kick at it again, but this time the wolf grabbed his foot in his jaws and bit down. Aramis cried out in pain behind the cloth in his mouth, frantically kicking at the animal with his other foot, til it finally let his trapped foot go and retreated once more.

His foot throbbed in pain, but Aramis couldn't afford to even think about that right now. The wolf's pattern began all over again, advancing slowly and watching.

All of a sudden it sprang, landing with both front paws on Aramis' legs, pinning him to the spot. Aramis, feeling the end was near for him in the worst and most horrible way imaginable, began praying the prayer of the dying, commending himself to the God he loved so much.

It was then that he heard a sharp crack as a pistol report rang in the air.

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Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan hadn't gone very far when the going got too dense with brush to keep riding. They dismounted and continued, spread out as they had the day before.

They recognized some of the area from the day before, but hoped they could find some trace of the path taken by Jean.

In the near distance, Athos spied another creek wending its way through the trees. But as he looked closer, he saw something that looked like it was attacking an object on the ground. Whatever it was, Athos was in no mood to watch any predator, human or animal, attacking a helpless victim. He drew out his pistol and aimed. Firing, he had the satisfaction of seeing the animal's body, a wolf he could now tell, jerk and fall, landing over whatever it had been attacking a moment before. Behind him, two more reports echoed his as Porthos and d'Artagnan took out the other two wolves in rapid succession.

Moving a little closer, he studied the scene as he moved. Suddenly he froze, and then began to move at an all-out run towards the scene.

"Aramis!", he shouted, and Porthos and d'Artagnan, already startled by Athos' suddenly rapid advance, swifly followed him, hoping against hope that it was indeed their missing brother, yet at the same time fearful that it had indeed been Aramis being attacked.

Wading through the creek, Athos came out on the other side, swiftly climbing the creeper-tangled bank and running to Aramis. Fury warred with sadness as he saw the condition of his beloved brother. He knelt down at Aramis's side, as Porthos and d'Artagnan came up behind him.

But before they could do anything, Athos and Porthos were startled by a growl coming from behind them. Turning, d'Artagnan rapidly drew and plunged his main gauche into the neck of the wolf, which had not been dead, but wounded. The animal shuddered and fell to the ground.

Porthos had now seen Aramis' condition, as well, and the same anger filled him, too. He gently turned Aramis on his side, enabling Athos to cut through the gag and ropes holding their brother so cruelly. They could hardly believe anyone would tie someone like this and leave them to the elements and predators in so helpless a way.

As they freed him, they could feel the violent tremors coursing through his body. Athos, in an infinitely tender way that would greatly surprise many people who saw only his taciturn and seemingly aloof manner, lifted his brother's head and shoulders into his arms, cradling his head in the spot between his chin and shoulder. All the while, he murmured softly to him, "It's all right, Aramis. You're safe. We are all here for you now."

Porthos and d'Artagnan laid their hands on him, too, trying so much to bring him comfort. It had to have been terrifying for him to be in such a helpless position while wolves menaced him.

After a few moments, in which Aramis had shown no signs that he knew they were there, Porthos began to check over Aramis' body to see what shape he was in. His skin was littered with scratches and dirt, the stitiches in the partially-healed wound in his side had apparently been broken, and it had been bleeding. Then, he happened to glance down towards Aramis' lower body. Gasping, he drew his brothers' attention, as he said, "His foot is a mess. He didn't come out of that attack unmarked," pointing to Aramis' foot. It was clearly savagely bitten, and bleeding freely.

D'Artagnan went to his saddlebags and brought Aramis' medic bag, which he had thought to bring along. Using some clean cloths that he dampened in the creek bed, he cleaned the wounds, and then wrapped a bandage around it, both under and around the foot. Holding a cloth to his brother's side, he managed to wipe away the blood and saw that it was no longer bleeding, so he wound a clean bandage around it until they had time to redo the stitches.

They made camp right where they were for the night. D'Artagnan went back for the horses, and they made Aramis comfortable in some blankets. The tremors had not left him since they found him, but he hadn't yet awakened. Athos had not moved from his brother's side since he found him. He gently rubbed circles on his brother's shoulders, trying to convey that he was no longer alone, and that he was in the company of the brothers who loved him. This had shaken Athos in a way he could never remember having experienced before. He knew the evil that resided in the hearts of some men, but this was cruelty beyond his imagining. And for what reason? Because his daughter was attracted to Aramis? It didn't make sense. He was very much afraid the incident would not leave Aramis for quite some time.

A couple of hours later, Aramis began moving restlessly in the blankets. Athos cupped his brother's face and spoke softly to him. "Aramis, it's Athos. Will you open your eyes, brother?"

Not receiving any more movement from his brother, Athos leaned a little closer, and said, "Please, Aramis, can you wake for us?"

This time, he saw movement under Aramis' eyelids, indicating there was an effort being made there to comply. Finally, his eyelids flickered, then slowly opened.

Athos said, "You're all right, Aramis. We are all here. You're safe," repeating his earlier words to soothe his brother.

The tremors continued to wrack Aramis' body. He shivered, even under the mound of blankets, and Athos knew the shivering had nothing to do with cold, but reactions to the terror he had undergone.

Athos slowly and carefully gathered his upper body once more into his arms, holding him close. Aramis slowly said, "I thought...thought I might not ... make it...this time." Pausing, he continued with difficulty, "I ... I thought I would... thought I ...would be ea...", and he couldn't continue, sobs wracking his body.

Athos hugged him tighter, saying, "No, Aramis. You're all right," rocking him back and forth and feeling overwhelming guilt. They had come this way yesterday, and had seen no sign of their brother. They had gone right by here, and could have prevented this almost-tragedy. And he was their leader. He couldn't tell Porthos or d'Artagnan. He felt enough guilt already, without subjecting them to the same feelings.

Aramis wore himself out a little later, but Athos didn't want to leave him. Lying down next to him, he drew him against his own body, with his arms wrapped around his shoulders. He still felt the tremors running through his traumatized brother's body, even when he had fallen asleep. He feared again that this would stay with him for quite a while.

Porthos and d'Artagnan settled down for the night with their heads close to their brother's side, a hand from each reaching overhead to settle on Aramis' hand and leg, letting him know they were all there for him.

As they fell asleep, the sound of a wolf howling in the distance made them glad Aramis was asleep. The last thing he needed to hear at the moment was a night predator.


	19. Chapter 19

Athos woke up in the middle of the night. At first, he couldn't figure out what had awakened him. And then he heard it. He could hear Aramis' panicked breathing, and his body thrashing against the blankets. Then, "No, no!"

In a flash, Athos had lifted his brother's body, again holding him close to soothe him against his obviously nightmarish reliving of his ordeal. The tremors, which had never completely gone away yet, were wracking his body full-force again.

Porthos and d'Artagnan had now awakened, too. Porthos ran his fingers through Aramis' hair, trying to calm him down. At first, he fought the arms Athos had around him, probably in his unconscious mind associating the restrictiveness with the ropes that had been binding him during the wolf's attack.

"Aramis, you are safe. The wolf is dead. Open your eyes and see," Porthos said softly, his heart, all their hearts torn by the obvious fear emanating from him. Aramis tried to sit up, desperate to protect himself, but wasn't able to move well enough to do so. He was gasping now, the panic overwhelming him.

Athos tried once more. "Aramis, Porthos, d'Artagnan and I are by your side. We will not let the wolf come near you. You are safe, brother." He spoke without raising his voice much louder than a whisper, and with a calmness he himself did not possess at the moment.

With a shudder, Aramis finally went still. After a few moments, his eyes cracked open, then widened to see his brothers' anxious faces peering down at him. His eyes looked confused and full of pain.

"Aramis, can you hear me? The wolf is gone. We killed him. You are safe." Athos felt almost physically ill at the trauma his beloved brother had gone through. His hands cupped the side of Aramis' face, rubbing gentle circles with the pad of his thumb on the skin, seeking to give comfort to him.

Porthos asked him, "Aramis, are you thirsty? Could you drink some water for us?"

Aramis was still silent, his eyes continuing to move slowly between his brothers' faces, and they weren't sure if he was completely with them yet. Porthos lifted Aramis' head up, putting the waterskin to his lips. At first, there was no reaction. But when a few drops of the water touched his lips, he began to drink, trying to swallow too much too fast, resulting in his choking the water back up. Porthos waited until his brother quieted, then slowly tried again. This time, Aramis drank slowly. He gave a little whimper when the waterskin was removed, but they knew he would just choke on it again if he tried to take in too much at a time.

Laying him back in the blankets, Athos said," Try to sleep again, Aramis. We will be right here. We will not leave you alone," leaning down to press a soft kiss on his brother's forehead. Porthos and d'Artagnan followed suit, then they arranged themselves around him for the rest of the night, Porthos this time laying against him with his strong arms enclosing his shoulders. Athos lay close on the other side, with d'Artagnan next to him. Aramis' eyes slowly closed, and his breathing gradually evened out into a peaceful slumber.

D'Artagnan sat instead of reclining, determined to keep a look out during the night. Jean was still on the loose.

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Angelique had been awakened when Aramis had his nightmare. She thought of going to him, but could hear the others there already. She stayed where she was, not thinking she might be welcome now. The thought of what her own father had done to Aramis sickened her. She would never have thought the father she loved had it in his heart to harm someone as he had. Now, she didn't know what to do. She felt that the Musketeers would look at her with the same feelings she knew they had for her father. After all, she was his blood. The tears silently streamed down her cheeks at the idea that Aramis had nearly died a horrendous death at the hands of her own father! Where could she go now? What would she do to support herself? She would never go back to her father now. He frightened her-her own father frightened her!

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How dare they, he thought. He had everything worked out to eliminate the problem he believed Angelique had, and they had foiled it completely. The Musketeer hadn't even died! And his daughter was still in their hands.

Watching from the shelter of the trees, he saw that the youngest was keeping watch instead of sleeping. The others were at either side of their friend. Angelique was a little further away, but still in full sight of them. He would just have to trail them. Sooner or later, they would make a mistake, relax their guard. He would rescue his daughter, and woe to anyone who tried to stop him!

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In the morning, Athos lay pondering. He knew Treville had to be either very angry at the disappearance of his four best Musketeers, or more likely, downright worried about what had happened to them. There had been no way to keep in contact with him after the ambush. They also still did not, as far as he knew, have possession of the document they had been sent to retrieve.

He had already decided they would stay at least one more day here before heading home. Aramis was in no shape yet to go anywhere. Athos was at a loss to know how to heal the trauma his brother had gone through. They could just be there for him and love him.

Reaching over, he laid his hand on Aramis' head, ruffling through the unruly curls. He could still feel the tremors, although they were not as violent as the day before. Not many people saw this tender, loving side of Athos. He was very protective of his brothers, as they all were with each other.

Again, he wondered why Jean had done what he did. It was such an exceptionally cruel act to enact on someone a person barely knew. But the man's mind may have simply been unbalanced. They might never know. He was probably long gone by now, and with his skills, could disappear and be extremely difficult to track.

Aramis shifted slightly in his sleep, a soft moan escaping as he did so. Athos' stroked his hair in a calming motion, and his brother continued to slumber peacefully now.

It was then that he noticed Angelique watching from the far side of the campfire. Gesturing for her to come over, Athos frowned when she stayed where she was. He could now see how puffy her face was. Had she been crying?

He tried again. This time, she reluctantly arose and made her way over to them.

"Angelique, are you all right? It is not your fault for anything your father has done, you know." He spoke softly, trying not to wake Aramis up.

"I am so ashamed. My own father tried to murder Aramis. I didn't think you would want me anywhere near your friend now." Her voice was barely audible as she spoke, and Athos had to strain to hear even these words from her.

"You are not at fault for anything, Angelique," Athos again told her.

"I have never seen this side of my father. He has always been a loving parent to me. I do not understand why he would do this," she said, gesturing towards Aramis with tears once more starting to fall.

"Nothing happened while Aramis stayed with you that would lead you to believe your father harboured such hatred in his heart?" Athos asked, knowing there hadn't been from her previous words, but feeling he had to ask. He had seldom encountered such a seemingly unprovoked attack.

"No," she said, "except that he really did not like how much I cared about Aramis. He let me know that more than once."

Athos asked her if she would like to stay near Aramis while he fixed them some breakfast. Her quick nod and grateful eyes touched his heart. She really did have feelings for his brother.

Getting supplies from their saddlebags, he said to d'Artagnan, "You did not sleep last night, did you?" It wasn't really a question he posed, but a comment.

"I just felt someone needed to keep an eye out, with Jean on the loose," d'Artagnan said. He was silent for a few moments, then said quietly, "What he did to Aramis, Athos. It was such a sick and cruel thing. The man is obviously not in his right mind. I just wanted to make sure he didn't show up again when we weren't expecting him."

Athos replied, "We all thank you, d'Artagnan. My focus, I admit, was totally on Aramis. I am very worried about him. Something like that can stay with a person for a long time. I think we need to give him as much care and love as we can to counteract such a vicious and senseless act of terror. I cannot even imagine going through that myself, as I am sure you and Porthos cannot either."

"Not that I would have wished for it to happen, but why did he do plan such a slow way to kill him? It would have been much quicker and less effort to shoot him, but he didn't. He wanted to make him suffer."

"He is a very sick man, d'Artagnan. You were right to keep an eye out. We need to take turns keeping watch during our time in this forest. Let us just hope he does not try ..."

Athos' attention was sharply diverted from whatever he was going to say by the loud groan emanating from his brother. Hurrying back to him, he saw that Aramis' face was scrunched up, and tears were coming down silently as he moved his head restlessly.

Porthos was awake now, trying to calm Aramis down. "Hey, Aramis, it's all right. You're fine, ok?"

But Aramis continued his agitated movements, unaware that anyone was with him.

Athos knelt down and took Aramis' face gently between his hands, leaning down and saying softly, "Shh, it's all right, Aramis. Do you not hear Porthos and I right here with you, brother. You are having a nightmare. It is not real."

Aramis quieted, laying still once more. Porthos' stricken face looked up at Athos, saying, "I wish I could trade places with him. Go through this for him."

"You and I both, brother," Athos said. They sat beside him for a while as his breathing once again evened out. Athos pulled the blankets up to Aramis' chin to keep him warm, as the early morning mist with the faint sunlight through the treetops kept much of the warmth at bay.

He was just about to fix breakfast for them, when Aramis' sleepy voice murmured in his sleep, "W...why?"

He wished he had an answer, even if his brother was not conscious enough to hear him. He intended to get to the bottom of the mystery after his brother recovered (his mind refused to think 'if he recovered').

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Just a personal note: My own experience of a wolf has stayed with me for a long time now. A group of us from my church had gone on retreat at a retreat house in the Sierrra Madre foothills (near Pasadena, CA). A friend and I had arrived early, eaten dinner and decided to take a walk down the wide driveway leading up to the retreat house on a beautiful late afternoon. We got about halfway down the driveway, when my friend said, "Look!" Farther down the driveway, we could see a large shaggy grey animal watching us. My friend (an ex-Marine) said to turn around and start walking towards the retreat house. She kept an eye behind us. After a few steps, she said, he's coming after us. Run! So we took off. Luckily, another earler retreatant had just finished dinner, and came out of the retreat house then. She was a very big-built woman, and we've never known whether it was just her unexpected presence or how very big she was that scared it off. We just were glad that it did.

Being a group who all knew us, next morning they were all telling us, we heard your friends howling outside last night!


	20. Chapter 20

Treville had been highly concerned the longer his Musketeers remained missing. He hadn't been able to take action on the matter yet,as he had been required by Louis to be in attendance while a favored Duke of the King's had been visiting. The Duke had come to inform Louis that there was a disturbance in the neighboring area where his lands were situated.

Treville felt, after the first meeting between Louis and the Duke, that the man was more than a little paranoid. He informed Louis once they could speak privately, but Louis felt they needed to reassure the Duke while he was visiting, so Treville realized he would have to postpone his need to gather a troup of Musketeers and head out to look for them. It tore at his heart to delay, as whether he denied it or not, everyone knew how special the missing men were to him.

Sighing, he thought to himself "and some people consider it a 'soft job' to dance attendance on the KIng". If they only knew! He just hoped the Duke's visit was a very short one.

After nearly a week of impatience at his being hindered from leaving to search for his missing Musketeers, the Duke and his entourage finally departed. They were barely out of sight before Treville requested permission to leave. Receiving it, he returned rapidly to the garrison, where he carefully chose a group of Musketeers to go with him, and left barely two hours after the Duke had left,determined to find his men.

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Aramis slept almost the whole day, only waking when they wanted to persuade him to drink some water and eat. He took a few spoonfuls of broth and this time kept it down, but went right back to sleep. They figured it was the best thing for him right now.

That night, Athos and Porthos again slept on either side of Aramis. D'Artagnan had insisted on continuing his nightwatch vigils, having slept during the day.

In the middle of the night, Aramis groggily awoke, hearing a howling from the woods. Not fully awake, he froze, then frantically looked around. Behind him in the trees, he could see a grey shape moving. Panic seizing him, he struggled to his feet, his mind saying-get away! get away! His legs didn't seem to want to obey his foggy mind, shakily putting one foot in front of the other in his haste to move from the perceived danger. The foot bitten by the wolf throbbed in pain with the movements he was forcing from it, but he continued, limping haphazardly towards the creek bank.

Aramis had made it about halfway to the bank of the creek when Athos awoke. He didn't know what had awakened him, but fear seized himwhen he found Aramis gone from his side. Looking around, he saw his brother hesitantly moving towards-the creek! No, he thought, he will fall in! Rising swiftly to his feet, he began moving towards Aramis, Porthos, who had awakened by now too, following right behind him.

Angelique had also awakened, and fear filled her heart when she saw Aramis' movements. The woods were here favorite place to come, but she knew also how dangerous it could be to get much closer to the creek bank, especially in Aramis' condition. She silently prayed, Please God, keep him safe!

Athos and Porthos hadn't gone more than a few steps when they saw d'Artagnan step out between Aramis and the bank, one hand raised in a gesture of warning.

Athos and Porthos froze, letting their little brother go to Aramis.

Aramis was startled when d'Artagnan appeared in front of him. It was hard for him at the moment processing what was happening, and he started to back away, not recognizing d'Artagnan yet.

D'Artagnan made sure he moved as slowly as possible, not wanting to startle his brother. He was watching Aramis' eyes, wide open in fear, darting from side to side. Moving a step nearer, he said softly, "Aramis, it's all right."

Aramis shook his head, looking behind him at something, and saying, "No. It's ...it's there. See?"

D'Artagnan kept his eyes on Aramis, continuing to speak calmly. "There is nothing there. But we are here for you, Aramis. You are safe."

But Aramis' perceptions weren't clear. "Not safe. Not safe here," taking another step towards the creek.

D'Artagnan was almost to Aramis' side, saying quietly, "Aramis, it's d'Artagnan. I would never let you be hurt. You are..."

He got no further, as Aramis stopped, saying in a hesitant, almost disbelieving voice, "D'Artagnan?"

"Yes, Aramis, it's me, and you're..."

He got no further as Aramis whispered, "Thank God," raising shaky arms to throw around his brother's shoulder, and collapsing against him. D'Artagnan supported him, saying, "I'm here, are all here," ruffling his hair to comfort his shaken brother.

Athos and Porthos, relieved beyond measure that he had been stopped before possibly falling in the creek, were at his side now, their hands also around their brother's shoulders.

Aramis looked from one to another of his brothers' faces, finally saying, "Safe."

Athos said, "You are always safe with us, Aramis, just as we are always safe when you protect us, brother. Come back and lie down now."

Holding on to his arms, they were assisting him back to the campfire when Aramis' knees buckled beneath him. Porthos simply gathered him into his arms and carried him the rest of the way, depositing him gently down onto the mound of blankets he had so recently left. Athos again laid down beside him, and Porthos followed suit on his other side. Aramis was so exhausted by his little 'trip', he fell asleep almost immediately.

Angelique, seeing that he was safe and in the hands of his friends, once more retreated to her blankets, content that he was all right, but instinctively knowing they needed to be with him. They were his 'family', she realized, as she lay down once more, thanking God for answering her prayers.

Athos, for his part, could not sleep, as he was extremely upset with himself. How in the world had he let himself fall asleep, and not notice when his brother had moved away from his side? He was not the only one with disquieting thoughts. Porthos was so mad, he wished he could kick himself. Some fine friend I am, he thought. My brother could have broken his neck falling down into the creek, and I would have been slumbering away over here! Neither of them thought for a moment that they had just been very tired from all the events of the past few days, and their bodies had taken the rest they had been denying themselves.

So lost in his anger at himself, Athos didn't at first notice Aramis' movement. But then he felt something in front of him, and looking down, he saw that Aramis was grabbing hold of his shirt front. Just as it had brought a smile to Athos' face, Aramis then pulled himself closer and snuggled his head against Athos' shoulder, letting out a soft little sigh as he became still again. Athos, his earlier anger at himself disrupted, broadened his smile at this intimate moment of friendship. He could feel the rise and fall of Aramis' breathing as it evened out into slumber. Maybe he has turned a corner, he hoped, as he resolved to stay awake that night, not willing to let anything disturb his brother again.

Porthos had caught the movement of Aramis' hand, and then his pulling himself against Athos, and just grinned over Aramis' head at Athos, who had still not stopped smiling. They both knew Aramis was sometimes had the innocence of a child when he was very sick or injured. It only endeared him to them even more.

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Aramis slept through the whole night, untroubled by nightmares. In the morning, his eyes opened to find Athos looking back at him.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Athos deadpanned. "I hope you had a very good rest."

Aramis' mouth quirked up in a little smile, then noticed where his hand was still grasping Athos' shirt front. Athos commented, "You had a very good hold of my second-best shirt the whole night, brother."

Aramis' face began to pinken as Athos told him this. Athos said, "Aramis, you can grab onto anything I have. You know you are far more important than anything I own, do you not?"

Aramis, still highly emotional since the night before, silently lifted his arms and put them around Athos' neck. "I thought ... I would die. Every time I have slept ... I see it happening again. But last night, I did not dream."

They stayed silent for a while, Athos content just to let Aramis at last have some calm waking moments. But Aramis began fidgeting around with Athos' shirt laces, and glanced up at him a couple of time.

"What, Aramis?" Athos asked, knowing his brother well.

"Could we ... do you think we could leave today?", looking around hesitantly at everything around him, the scene of his ordeal.

"I am not yet sure you are ready to travel, Aramis," Athos told him.

"I would so much rather ... endure discomfort ... if we could leave this place," Aramis whispered. "I ... would not hold you up. I would be ... no bother."

At these words, Athos hugged him close, saying, "You are our brother. We love you very much. You are never a bother, Aramis."

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An hour later, they were preparing to set out again. Aramis was lifted up in front of Porthos, where he usually rode if he was slightly incapacitated. Leaning his head back against his brother's shoulder, Aramis sighed in content. He could finally leave the sights and sounds of his fear behind, he thought. He closed his eyes as Porthos wound his arm around his brother's middle, saying, "I gotcha. Just close those eyes and rest awhile, alright?"

Following his brother's 'orders', Aramis closed his eyes, blocking out the final sight of his near-death as they rode out once more into the woods.


	21. Chapter 21

Well, I have to apologize. I just realized that I called the bandit leader, Emile, to begin with. But later in the story, he accidentally became Albert! An unforeseen danger of writing a multi-chaptered story over several months, I guess. He will remain Albert now-lol. They come back in this chapter.

The 'bandits' were finally able to begin searching again. Their leader,Albert, had unexpectedly become quite ill for several days, totally incapacitating him. They figured it might be food poisoning, a danger sometimes with those having to depend on food kept in their saddlebags for long periods. Several of the others had come down with whatever it was, too, but not nearly so badly as their leader, Albert. The others, not wanting to go against his temper if they made a wrong move, stayed put where they were, waiting for him to come back to himself.

When he finally woke up, though, he was furious with them for letting the Musketeers and Jean's daughter get away. They might be long-gone now, and with them the document that would have brought them a rich reward.

Shouting insults and curses at them, he told them to saddle up. They were going to find the Musketeers if it was the last thing they did. They tried to object, concerned that he wasn't well enough yet to ride. That was the wrong thing to bring up with him. If they thought he was angry before, he was positively livid now.

"Get the horses ready now, you stupid fools! If we don't find them, we lose a whole lot of reward. Let us just hope they are in the woods yet, and haven't headed back to Paris. Our patron will have our heads if we don't get him the document he wants! Move it!"

They were saddled up and ready to move in 10 minutes,and rode out. Albert's men thought to themselves that they were lucky it wasn't any of them that Albert wanted to vent his rage on.

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They traveled all morning through a seemingly peaceful forest. Only they knew it wasn't that peaceful in this vast expanse of trees. Jean was lurking somewhere, and the surprisingly quiet 'bandits' had been nowhere to be seen for several days now. How long could their luck hold out?

Athos looked over at Aramis, peacefully sleeping with his head back against Porthos' shoulder. Porthos, whose strong arm held his brother tight while they rode, saw Athos' glance over at them, and winked. He was so happy Aramis was well enough to travel, and was beginning his long road back to health, he could hardly keep it in. That brought a big smile to Athos' face, as well. Looking over at d'Artagnan, who had been watching the silent exchange between his brothers, he saw the grin struggling to be kept in line on his face. It was so good to have something finally to bring some lightheartedness to their faces.

He said, "Let us stop here for our midday meal. Maybe we can even coax our sleepy brother to eat something!"

Porthos dismounted while Athos kept hold of Aramis, then Porthos lifted their still-sleeping brother down, depositing him on a blanket d'Artagnan had just laid out for him.

He kept right on sleeping, so Porthos gently tapped his shoulder. "Wakey, wakey. Time to eat."

Aramis continued his slumber as if it hadn't happened. Porthos tried just a little harder. "Come on, brother, you need to eat. Then, we might even let you sleep some more."

Aramis finally began moving his head slightly, his eyelids struggling to open. All of a sudden, he tried to lift himself up, and gasped as the movement triggered pain in his body.

Porthos leaned closer and said, "It's alright, Aramis. Don't move. We will bring the food to you. Your body doesn't want to move much yet. Give it time, alright?"

Aramis finally succeeded in opening his eyes, squinting up at Porthos with a sleepy gaze. "Where are we?"

"Still in the woods, brother," Athos told him, bringing a bowl of broth over to him. "Do you think you could eat a little? You need sustenance. Other than some broth, you've not eaten in the past few days."

Actually, Aramis was a little leary of trying to eat anything yet. He didn't want to give his stomach an opportunity to rebel, which was often likely when someone was injured. But he slowly nodded his head, and Porthos raised him up a little to be able to take the food.

Athos spooned the broth slowly, Aramis finding it wasn't upsetting his stomach after a couple of spoonfuls. D'Artagnan brought over a small piece of bread, and Athos tore a piece off for him. He was able to keep that down, too, for which they were very grateful.

Even eating was tiring for him yet, though, his eyelids drooping in the exhaustion he was still experiencing. They cleared the campsite and saddled the horses once again. Athos and d'Artagnan lifted a once-again slumbering Aramis up in front of Porthos, and they took off.

By mid-afternoon, they decided to stop briefly again, and refill their waterskins in the creek they were nearing.

Porthos handed Aramis down to Athos and d'Artagnan, figuring they could give him a little rest from the motions of the horses, which wouldn't have been too comfortable to an injured man. All of them knew that from personal experience. They could also tell he had to be in pain, because generally, if he was injured, he still tried to make it look like it didn't bother him and he could get down himself.

They let him rest for half an hour before getting back in their saddles again. Aramis never woke up during their break or after they began riding. They covered quite a bit of distance in the latter part of the afternoon before finally stopping for the night.

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Albert and his band were becoming quite frustrated at not finding any trace of the Musketeers, when just before nightfall, one of his men shouted, "Tracks!" Gathering around the evidence of being on the right track, they relaxed a bit as Albert looked much more pleased than they had seen from him in quite some time. They were going to finish their hunt for the Musketeers after all, and give great pleasure to the man who had hired them when they brought him his precious prize.

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That night, once again Athos and Porthos wedged themselves on either side of Aramis, with d'Artagan wanting to be lookout again. Athos made a point to himself to have a little chat with their little brother in the morning. They needed to split up the sentry duty, or d'Artagnan was going to totally wear himself out, no matter how good his intentions were.

Next morning, they rose early and started off again. Aramis was up in front of Athos this time, much to Porthos' displeasure. But Athos insisted, saying Porthos needed a little break. In reality, Athos just wanted to see for himself how Aramis was doing with the traveling they were doing, and he needed, as they all did, to have the brother he had almost lost near him.

At midday again, they made a temporary camp to eat and rest.

They had just settled Aramis down on some blankets when Athos lifted a hand for silence. They all froze, trying to hear what he thought he had heard.

"Horses!" Athos cried.

Hurriedly throwing their saddles back on their horses, they mounted and took off again. The horses they had heard were coming closer. They urged their horses into a gallop, hoping to outdistance whoever was approaching. They knew it had to be the 'bandits', as they had seen no one else for days in the woods. They didn't want to have a pitched battle at the moment, not with their totally helpless injured brother in the middle of it.


	22. Chapter 22

They kept a lead as they maneuvred their horses through the trees, but were on the lookout for somewhere that sheltered them enough to make a stand. If they continued through the forest, inevitably,sooner or later they were going to run unexpectedly upon a dense stand of trees, causing them to slow down, which would give their pursuers a chance to get within shooting range.

After keeping ahead of the bandits for over an hour, Athos heart nearly sank. Up ahead he could see solid blue sky-the end of the forest they had been in for days now. But it would give the bandits an advantage of open terrain, where they could be seen for miles. There would be less of a chance to find enough shelter to turn and fight. But their pursuers were spread out in a curving line behind, which kept the Musketeers from veering off to either side.

Breaking out of the trees, the bright daylight caused watery eyes for a few moments.

Then, they nearly whooped for joy at what they saw ahead of them. The same river Aramis had originally been carried down was straight ahead of them. They couldn't have asked for a better setting. The river was too wide for the bandits to just circle around and catch them from the rear.

Quickly dismounting, they laid Aramis down near the water's edge, and Angelique moved next to him, reaching out to grasp and hold his hand. He was awake now, and frustrated that he was unable to do much in their defense. Athos brought both his pistols to him, and laid them within reach.

Then, he, Porthos and d'Artagnan positioned themselves slightly spaced out around Aramis and Angelique, settling down to wait for the bandits to attack.

They didn't have to wait long, as their pursuers began firing as soon as they broke through the trees. The Musketeers fired one at a time, causing the attackers to find shelter from the shots. This way one fired, then reloaded while the next man fired. It wouldn't work for long, but they were too accurate in their shots for the bandits to risk depleting their ranks.

Finally, the leader must have been frustrated and ordered them to become bolder. Several men arose at once, firing as they came. Two were hit, but two more replaced them, and they drew nearer to the Musketeers, who had to all fire at once to keep them at bay. When their shots were used, they drew their rapiers and braced themselves for the next assault.

They had barely prepared themselves before they were rushed, the bandits flying at them with drawn swords and yelling like banshees. The Musketeers quickly found themselves fighting more than one man each, and drew their main gauches, as well. Their attackers fell back slightly at the fury of their targets' attacks at first.

Then, they grew bolder, egged on by the shouted comments of their leader. "Remember the amount of reward we get when we bring the papers to our 'benefactor', which spurred the men on as the thought of those riches danced in their heads.

Their attackers tried any tactics they could think of to get the upper hand. One of Porthos' attackers tried a sneaky move to take his feet out from under him, but obviously, didn't know that Porthos taught that move to new recruits. When the foot came sideways at him, he was ready and sliced the tendon of the man's ankle, causing him to scream and back off, falling to the grass.

One of d'Artagnan's attackers tried head-butting him while he was dealing with a blow from the other bandit, but d'Artagnan kicked out behind him and the man went down from the blow to his head.

Athos had his hands full with three attackers. The rapier and main gauche in his hands moved with lightning speed as he defended himself. One man got in a lucky slice, and Athos could feel blood on his forearm, but he didn't even bat an eye before running the man through in the next moment. Another man replaced him, though, coming at him from the side while he was dealing with his other two attackers.

The man suddenly went down as a pistol shot rang in the air. Glancing to the side, Athos couldn't help but smile as he saw Aramis holding the smoking pistol. Even injured and still extremely weak, their marksman was better than anyone in France with a pistol.

The fighting continued, the bandits hoping their sheer numbers would wear their opponents down eventually. Aramis used his second pistol to take one down, but when one man was dispatched, another took his place.

Then, d'Artagnan's attackers began to inch away while still fighting, leaving a small open space behind the fighting. The leader had devised the maneuvre when he sent the last two men into the fighting. As soon as there was a small gap another man slipped through, unseen by the Musketeers, heading straight for Aramis and Angelique, who were unaware. Angelique was bending down towards Aramis, trying to help with reloading the pistols.

The bandit was almost upon them before Angelique saw him and screamed, but it was too late. The man grabbed Aramis and dragged him to his feet, with a knife at his throat. The scream had distracted the Musketeers, who turned towards the noise, while trying to keep their attackers at bay with swordpoints.

The bandit leader, seeing that his strategy was working, called out,"Put your weapons down now, or your friend will have his throat cut!"

Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan froze but didn't comply, trying frantically to think of a way out of the situation.

"I will not tell you again. If you have not thrown your weapons to the ground, all of them, by the count of three, my man will end your friend's life. One!"

They still hesitated, knowing that if they gave in, all of them were probably dead men.

"Two!"

Athos disgustedly threw down his weapons, followed then by Porthos and d'Artagnan.

"Now, you finally showed some sense. Pick up their weapons."

Athos said, "We did as you asked. Tell your man to release our friend."

Oh, no," Albert said, coming into the open and advancing on them as he spoke. "He is the one who knows where the papers are, and he is going to tell us how to find 't you, monsieur?", speaking to Aramis, who was sagging in the bandit's arms, the knife still pointed at his Adam's apple.

Aramis was having great difficulty staying on his feet. The foot bitten by the wolf refused to .take his weight, so he was leaning heavily on his other foot.

Albert strode right through the now-weaponless Musketeers, headed for Aramis.

"We meet again, Musketeer. Well, actually, we never met before. My musket met your body some days back. I see you survived. That is very good, as I have a few questions for you."

Athos raised his voice in anger. "Leave him alone. He is badly wounded. He does not know what happened to your papers, as they disappeared when he was carried downstream in the river."

"You expect me to believe that?" Albert sneered. "You Musketeers have a reputation for being very good at completing missions you are sent on, even at risk to your lives. I intend to find out just where the papers have gone to," getting even closer to Aramis in a very threatening way.

"Do you have any idea what the penalty is for attacking His Majesty's personal guard?" Athos continued.

Albert said, "I know I would probably be hung for relieving you of papers meant for the King, and you are seeing just how afraid I am of that threat. Now, Musketeer", turning again to Aramis, "where are those papers?"

Aramis looked right back at the man, defiance clear in his eyes. Albert nodded to the man holding him, and Aramis' arm was pulled back and sharply upward, causing him to gasp in pain.

Porthos, silent until now, called out, "Leave him alone, you coward! Take on someone who can fight back." daring the bandit leader to fight him. But Albert was no fool, just vindictive and cruel.

"You can either tell me what I want to know, or...," and he stopped. He had seen the men's obvious protectiveness towards each other. Maybe he was going about this wrong? Motioning to Athos, he said to Aramis, "You all seem to care very much for each other. How would you like to see your friend shot right in front of your eyes? You have until I count to three to tell me what I want to know,"lifting his pistol to point it at Athos' head.

"One." Aramis turned his eyes to Athos, his face a picture of anguish.

"Two."


	23. Chapter 23

As Albert opened his mouth to say 'three', Aramis said, "Stop! I will lead you to the papers. Just don't hurt my friends."

Albert's lips pulled back in a twisted parody of a smile, sure of his victory now. "So your friends are more important to you than your duty? An interesting fact to know, and maybe store away for future use.

Back in Aramis' face again, the bandit leader hissed at him, "You will take us to wherever you have hidden the documents, and if I find one hint of betrayal from you, I will not only shoot this one," indicating Athos, "but your other friends, as well. Do you understand?"

Aramis hung his head, nodding.

Albert turned to his men. "Georges, Jacques, go get our horses. The rest of you, keep these others under close guard. They don't have the reputations they do for no reason. We do not want any trouble started by any of them."

While Albert had his back to her and Aramis giving orders to his men, Angelique had noticed that the man holding Aramis had lowered his knife. Looking around frantically, she spied some stones scattered near her feet. Reaching down slowly, trying not to attract any attention, and closed her fingers around one of them. Still crouching, still fearful that her movement would be noticed, she swung her arm, the stone hitting the man who had been threatening Aramis in the back of his knees with the stone. Aramis, who was more alert than she had realized from his posture, grabbed his discarded pistol and in the same motion, brought it up and slammed it into the man's head.

During all of this, a pistol shot sounded,and Albert cried out and fell to the ground, clutching the shoulder of the arm that had held the pistol.

They all stopped, looking around to see where the shot had come from.

Porthos and d'Artagnan's faces broke into wide grins, as they both shouted at the same time, "Captain!"

Treville and his hand-picked men emerged from the trees, covering the distance to them rapidly. Dismounting, he strode up to Athos, demanding, "What on earth is going on here?"

Athos, whose attention had been taken with rapidly binding Albert's hands behind him to prevent any further trouble from the man, now turned to Treville with one of his rare smiles. "Captain!"

Treville's attention was suddenly diverted, as he called out, "Aramis!" Aramis had collapsed, his efforts having further exhausted what little energy he had acquired. His friends rushed to his side, worry clouding their faces once more.

Gently nudging his shoulder, Porthos brow furrowed in concern as it elicited no response from his brother. Aramis had simply been through too much in the past few days. Even when he slept, it was restless from the nightmares. Porthos and his brothers hoped now that Treville was here, their brother could finally begin a true recovery.

After a few moments, Athos noticed Angelique standing quietly to one side. Going over to her, he gave her a hug, a rare show of warmth from him, saying, "Thank you for saving Aramis' life, Angelique. You are a very brave young woman."

She blushed, looking down as she said, "I would do anything for him."

Athos again thought to himself, she is in love with our Aramis. Knowing how Aramis felt about the Queen, he didn't know yet how this might play out. He didn't want Angelique to be hurt, as she was such an innocent girl who didn't know much about the ways of the world yet.

Treville's men had rounded up the rest of the bandits, and were keeping an eye on them. They

The Captain took Athos aside a little later, and had him fill him in on what had been going on in their mission. He had been quite concerned for his missing Musketeers, and was very relieved to find them all again. But he wanted to know what had happened to Aramis. He could see the very evident signs of pain and exhaustion written on his Musketeers face, even unconscious as he was.

After filling him in on the ambush, the search for their missing brother, and their time in the cave, Athos said, "Aramis was then kidnapped by Angelique's father, and left to die in the forest."

Whatever Treville had been expecting, that was definitely a turn of events he could never have envisioned. Eyebrows shooting him, he demanded, "Whatever for?"

"We still do not know for sure. It may stem from something we've all noticed. We suspect that Angelique has fallen for Aramis. It wouldn't be the first woman who was attracted to him. I believe she has never before known a man very well outside of her father, and she could be very hurt if her affection is not returned. I do not believe Aramis harbors the same attraction. He cares for her very much. She saved his life, and risked her own to do it. He would never knowingly hurt her, but I do not know if he realizes just how much she cares. Her father has noticed this as well, and according to both Aramis and Angelique, is very against her attraction. I realize he may be very protective, but to do what he did to Aramis for that reason? I just feel something else is going on that we do not yet know."

Treville was digesting this, but asked Athos, "What exactly did Angelique's father do to Aramis when he kidnapped him?"

He brought him into the depths of the forest near a stream. Aramis was tied and gagged, and Jean took him down the creek bank. He positioned him against the creek bank where trees and underbrush from above would conceal him from sight. Then, he left him there. We ..." Athos topped, still choking up when he recalled how they had passed right by the spot Aramis lay hidden in, without seeing their brother. "We...didn't see himwhen we rode by, Captain. It was my fault as the leader. I should have seen him. I should have...", he couldn't go on, memories of what had nearly happened still tearing him apart.

"You couldn't have known, Athos," Treville consoled him. "The man went to a lot of effort, it seems, to keep you from finding him. What happened then?"

When we were coming back the same way the next morning," Athos continued, 'I saw a wolf attacking by the creek side. I was in no mood to see some small animal or bird being torn apart that morning, so I shot the beast. There were two others on either side a bit further back, and Porthos and d'Artagnan took them out also. It was then that I saw..."

He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice breaking as he related what happened next.

"It was then that I saw that it had been Aramis that the wolf had been attacking. Aramis, who was completely helpless to defend himself. Captain, the wolf had been straddling his legs with his fangs nearly at Aramis' face when I shot him. If he had ..." Once again, he found it impossible to go on.

"But he did not, Athos," Treville said. "You saved his life."

"When we got to him, he was shaking so badly in reaction, Captain. We untied him, and were cleaning and binding his wounds, when we found out his foot had been badly bitten by the wolf. It was a mess. Still is. He has had nightmares. He told me at one point that he thought he might not make it. He thought he would be eat...", and the tears started to trickle down Athos' face at the memory. "I cannot even imagine what it would have been like to go through that."

Treville put an arm around Athos' shoulder in a gesture unusual for him. He saw the emotional turmoil tearing his lieutenant apart, and understood completely.

"Aramis is a survivor. He is strong. He will get through this, and we will be with him every step of the way. Remember the Musketeer motto, Athos."

Nodding, Athos made his way back to his brother's side. Sitting down beside him, he silently clasped Aramis' hand, hoping he would be able to heal from all he had been through.

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All through the incident with the bandits, Jean watched from the trees. He was hoping Albert's men would make short work of the Musketeers, but much to his disgust, he saw his hopes dashed.

Now, with the extra Musketeers around, he wouldn't be able to do anything. But he was a patient man. If he had to follow them to Paris to take care of his daughter's future, to Paris he would go.

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That night, Aramis became very restless again, crying out in his sleep from his nightmares. Athos, who came awake very groggily from his brother's movements, laid a hand on his brother's forehead, almost panicking at the heat now radiating from it. Fever!

Porthos and d'Artagnan, who had been awakened by the sounds emanating from their friend, were at his side quickly. They could see the fever rising in his body, and d'Artagnan went to wet some cloths in the river's water to try cooling him down.

By this time, Treville had joined them, and noticed something they had not yet picked up on, their focus on Aramis yet. Athos was silent and unmoving, except for the hand still clasping his brother's hand and his gaze never leaving his face. But his own face was flushed and damp, as well.

"Athos!" Getting no response, Treville laid a hand on his arm, shocked when he felt the warmth through Athos' doublet.

"Porthos! D'Artagnan! Both of them are burning up. Is Athos injured?"

They both looked up, confused, then looked at Athos. Stunned, Porthos replied,"He didn't say anything about injuries, Captain."

Treville gently disengaged Athos' hand from Aramis, and divested him of his doublet. His upper arm was bloody. Cursing, he tore the shirt back to expose an angry-looking slash. Grabbing one of the cloths d'Artagnan had soaked in the river, he cleansed the cut, then wrapped it in a strip torn from the shirt he had just ripped.

Sitting back, he looked at d'Artagnan and Porthos' shocked faces. They were going to have their hands full. Fever was always a danger, and they were far from Paris. Their hearts clenched as they realized both their brothers' lives were at risk.


	24. Chapter 24

I guess I typed too fast in the last chapter. Way too many typos-lol! I don't say it anywhere near enough, but I am so grateful for your reviews, pm's, comments in the Musketeers groups. They mean so much to me. Thank you!

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"Porthos, you stay with Aramis. D'Artagnan, you with Athos. We need to keep a close eye on them. Fever, as we all well know, is nothing to treat lightly. Athos' arm is clean and bandaged for now. I am going to check on the bite to Aramis' foot. With the turmoil caused by these 'bandits'," giving the captives a severe look, "it may have disturbed the bandages."

Setting to work, he cut through the cloths, exposing the ragged skin beneath, the edges of the bite a deep red and hot to the touch. Muttering a curse to himself, he murmured to Aramis, who moaned softly and flinched at the touch on his inflamed foot. "You're all right, son," Treville said. "And you are not alone, you hear? You saved your brother's life today. Now, fight for your own."

Whether Aramis could hear his Captain's words or not, he seemed to quiet down. Treville hoped that his marksman could get some decent rest now, as it would be helpful for his healing. He could feel the heat radiating off of him, however, and was fearful that it could take his Musketeer from them. They would just have to keep the wound clean, and wait and see.

Porthos had been gently threading his fingers through his friend's curls while Treville worked. Meeting his Captain's eyes over their prone comrade, Treville could see the worry in Porthos' face, tears not far from falling from the gentle giant's eyes. He understood the emotions, his own heart feeling much the same. When he was finished taking care of Aramis' foot, Porthos moved closer, laying down beside his best friend, his arm around his shoulder, the fingers still stroking through his hair in a soothing motion.

Turning, he saw that Athos was still, d'Artagnan having lifted his friend's head into his lap. Treville didn't think Athos' condition was nearly as severe, but he intended to give every possible attention to both of them. He cared very much for all of his inseparables.

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Both injured men were quiet through the night, neither waking at all. Come morning, however, two very different reactions marked the injured men.

Athos came awake slowly, disoriented as he lifted his head off d'Artagnan's lap and looking around wildly. D'Artagnan, knowing what was making him frantic, spoke softly, saying, "It's all right, Athos. Aramis is right here," indicating the still unmoving marksman's body a few feet away, wrapped in Porthos' strong arms.

As soon as he saw his brother was safe, Athos relaxed. He lay there a moment, then tensed, asking, "Why is my head in your lap?"

D'Artagnan smiled, saying, "Well, when you became unresponsive, and we found that you had a fever, the Captain treated your arm and assigned me to keep an eye on you through the night."

"Fever?" Athos asked, sounding just a little confused.

"You had a slash on your upper arm that was bleeding. He cleaned and wrapped it, but it caused a fever, so you need to rest today."

Athos attempted to get up, saying, "I need to interrogate our captives. We need to know who they work...", only to be interrupted as d'Artagnan gently but insistently pushed him into a prone position once more.

"We are able to do that, Athos," d'Artagnan told him. "You need to rest, so the fever afflicting you will come down. We are staying here for the time being, until you and Aramis are well enough to begin the trip back to Paris."

"How is Aramis?" Athos asked, trying to look around d'Artagnan to assess his brother's condition.

"He also came down with a fever, unfortunately, much higher than yours. It is from the bite on his foot. Treville cleaned it and changed the dressing. We do not know which of the bottles in Aramis' bag are for infection, if he even has any for that with him, so we will just have to wait it out."

A little while later, Porthos felt Aramis beginning to stir. A quiet moan came from his lips. What worried Porthos, though, was the heat radiating off his skin, and the tremors he once more felt running through his brother's body. Not much ever put fear into the giant Musketeer, but he felt helpless in the face of this,as he didn't have any way to make it go away. He feared for the life of the brother he loved.

Shortly afterwards, Aramis began to weakly struggle, trying vainly to free himself from the arms wrapped around his shoulders. His breathing was rapid, and his eyes were darting wildly around him, but unseeing. Treville, who was awake now, said, "He is delirious. He probably thinks he is still bound with the wolf threatening him. Loosen your arms, Porthos. Tell him it is you holding him. I do not know if he can hear us, but all we can do is let him know he is safe."

Porthos let up his hold a bit, leaning down close to Aramis' ear to say, "Aramis, it's Porthos, mon ami. I'm holding you. You're safe. The wolf can't get you. We killed him. You're safe, Aramis."

He kept repeating reassurances to him, hoping to get through to him. It took quite a while, but finally Aramis began to calm down. Porthos cautiously began rocking him gently back and forth until Aramis' eyelids drooped and finally closed. His breathing evened out as he gave in to sleep.

Porthos looked at Treville, saying, "We thought he was over the nightmares now. I guess the threat yesterday triggered panic down inside of him again.I want to take that Albert out for bringing the fear back again," giving the bandit leader a murderous look as he spoke.

Treville sadly said, "I feel it may be quite a while before the trauma Aramis has endured leaves him. After what he has been through, he certainly didn't need another threat to him. I don't blame you for your wanting revenge, Porthos. But we always need to rise above the base impulses that rule men like that," giving Albert the same threatening glance as Porthos had a moment before. "We resist the hatred, the cruelty that some live by. We live by our code, and give ourselves to our brothers, as they give themselves to us."

Aramis didn't regain consciousness that day, and his fever remained dangerously high. Porthos never left his side, until Treville came and ordered him to get a few hours rest. Porthos protested, but Treville insisted, saying he would stay with Aramis. Porthos grumbled, but obeyed his Captain.

Aramis alternated between restlessness, thrashing his arms weakly about and agitatedly moving his head back and forth, then laying so still Treville would reach for his neck to check his pulse. In mid-afternoon, Porthos awoke and took over his care again, while Treville once more checked on the bite, washing it and changing the dressing. Laying a cool, wet cloth on his forehead, he sighed as his medic didn't seem to be getting any better yet.

Athos was another story. As his fever came down, he became a very difficult patient for d'Artagnan. He was insisting on getting up, which Treville didn't think was a good idea at all. Finally, he had to order the sick man to stay put, or else. Athos wasn't definitely not happy about 'laying about', as he called it,but obeyed Treville in the end. Treville, for his part, was very happy that one of his two Musketeers was awake and with a receding fever.

Porthos was right back at Aramis' side as soon as he woke up. His heart was just sick looking at how pale and still his brother was. He wished so much that he could trade places with him, and take all his pain and fear away. Aramis was so skilled at taking care of all of them when they were injured or ill, and Porthos just didn't think it was fair that he had to go through all that he had been. He still thought what Jean did made no amount of sense. He couldn't understand how the man could leave Aramis helpless in a forest with wild animals, snakes, and who knew what else.

Angelique quietly approached, needing to find out how Aramis was. Without saying a word, she made eye contact with Porthos, who nodded. Sitting down at Aramis' side, she took his hand, and slowly raised it to brush her lips against the back of it, then hold it clasped gently in her lap as she kept her eyes on Aramis' face.

Finally, she raised her eyes to Porthos once again, and asked, "How is he?"

Porthos replied, "You heard the nightmare this morning?"

She nodded, and he continued, "When he felt my arms around him in his delirium, he thought they were the ropes that bound him when the wolf came. He tried to fight them. I told him he was safe, but I don't know that he really heard me. He finally exhausted himself, and has been asleep ever since. It takes a lot out of him when he has these nightmares, and his body can't take it much more.I'm hoping his fever will come down soon. It has to."

They sat a while in silence, keeping watch over Aramis, who continued to lay unmoving. Finally, Angelique lay down and in a moment was asleep, his hand still in hers.

Athos was able to eat half a bowl of broth and a cup of water. Treville said, "At least, one of you is recovering."

Athos attempted once more to get up, and Treville put up a hand,saying, "I don't want a relapse. Stay put,and I will allow you to resume your duties in the morning. That is an order," knowing how stubborn Athos could be. His lieutenant's look of resignation was almost comical to behold. He definitely did not like being ill or injured, and only Treville, or Aramis in medic mode, could get him to stay put.

Treville brought a cup over to Porthos later, saying, "We need to see if we can coax him into drinking some water. He will get too dehydrated if we don't. Hold him up for me, Porthos?"

Between the two of them, they were able to get Aramis to swallow about half a cup. Treville gave a sigh of relief at the small victory. Pulling a blanket up to Aramis' chin, he looked at Porthos and said, "Let me know right away if there is any change, or one of his nightmares starts to come again," and Porthos nodded in silence, once more laying down beside his brother, determined to stay awake for him.


	25. Chapter 25

Aramis began dreaming again a few hours later. "It's in the tree!," he said urgently. "Please ... leave Athos alone. It's in the tree! I will show you!", and began trying to get up. Porthos laid a hand across his shoulders, gently restraining his brother to lie back down.

But Aramis became more insistent. "Please ... don't hurt him! I told you where it was. That's what you wanted. Please, don't shoot him! Please!" the words tumbling from him, his face scrunched up in anguish. He kept imploring Albert, becoming more upset each time.

Athos by this time had awakened, as had d'Artagnan, Treville and Angelique. Athos started to get up to go to him, only to find Treville and d'Artagnan keeping him down.

"Please, he needs me. He thinks Albert is going to kill me. My voice can calm him down," he pleaded, something Athos almost never did.

Treville finally said, "Let him go to Aramis. If he gets any more agitated, he will pull that wound open again."

Letting go, they watched as Athos quickly moved over to Aramis' side, cupping his cheek in an affection displayed only for his brothers. "Aramis, it's Athos. I am all right, brother."

But Aramis was not conscious and was in the grip of his dream, his nightmare. He pushed against Porthos, trying to get up, but he had the strength of a kitten and didn't even budge Porthos. This only made him more frantic. "Please, I said I would do ... what you wanted. Please, don't shoot him! Please!" His breathing was so ragged by this time that he was gasping, trying to take in enough air.

Athos gathered his beleagured brother into his arms, leaning down and whispering, "Aramis, it is Athos! I am here. I am holding you in my arms. Albert did not shoot me. I am here. The shot was from the Captain. Please, open your eyes. You helped save me. I am here."

They could now see his eyes moving under his lids, then the lids fluttering. "That's it, Aramis. Come on! Open your eyes for us," Porthos encouraged him.

Aramis was still trying to catch his breath as it gradually calmed down. Finally, it evened out, and he opened his eyes. When he saw Athos and realized his brother was really there, the tears began to trickle down his cheeks while his hand reached out for his brother.

"You really ... are here!" he managed, as Athos clasped his hand and held it against his chest.

"Yes, I am, thanks to you and the Captain," Athos told him. Aramis' eyes widened when he saw Treville smiling at him over Athos' shoulder.

Treville told him, "Albert and his band are tied to some trees a few yards from here. They can't cause us any more trouble. If you had not knocked out the man who had the gun on you, I could not have taken the shot. It would have been too big a risk that he would shoot you. Now, we just want you to concentrate on getting better. And that is an order!"

Aramis, who by now was barely able to keep awake, gave them a tiny relieved smile before his eyelids dropped in sleep. Athos said he wanted to stay next to Aramis, promising to rest. Laying down next to his brother, whose hand still had his clasped in it, Athos closed his eyes to sleep, as well. The eyes of Treville, Porthos and d'Artagnan met above their brothers' sleeping forms, and for once they were able to share a smile about something for a change, looking over to Angelique to include her in their happiness.

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The rest of the night passed with no interruptions, and day dawned. Aramis was the first one to awake, jumbled images and words running through his mind. Then, one thought rose above the others, and he started to lift himself up, only to find his hand was held down. Confused, he looked down to see Athos laying beside him. Athos held Aramis' hand tightly, as if afraid to let it go. Seeing his brother brought back the incident during the night, and the joy he had felt that Athos was alive. He was alive!

Laying his head back down, Aramis snuggled up to the brother he had been so afraid he would lose, and closed his eyes again. It didn't take more than a moment before he was once more asleep, this time with a little smile playing around his mouth.

An hour later, Porthos gently shook Aramis and Athos' shoulders. "Time to wake up, you two! I made breakfast, and it's about time you put some food in those bodies."

Both of his brothers had almost identical reactions, causing Porthos to burst out laughing. They both had shrugged his hand off and turned away, determined to keep on sleeping.

Porthos was having none of that, though. He went through the whole rousing routine again, but as before, very gently. "I made such a good porridge, too. How about waking up to eat to reward me?"

Reluctantly, his brothers abandoned the sleep they had been interrupted from, Athos getting up to go get a bowl for Aramis. Porthos was having none of that, though.

"Athos, you need to eat. You have not been well, either. I will give Aramis his breakfast."

Athos gave him the raised eyebrow, in him sometimes more eloquent than words, and without protest, sat down with a bowl and ate in silence.

Porthos sat down next to Aramis, who sleepily looked up at him. Porthos said, "Let's see how much of this you can eat. You have had next to nothing for several days now, and that can't continue. You will never be able to fight to get well if you continue."

Aramis surprised Porthos by eating about half the porridge, then a cup of water. He was again tired by the time he had eaten, though, and was asleep in a few moments. Porthos ruffled his hair, so happy to see any signs of improvement for his best friend.

Athos seemed to have the opposite reaction to eating that Aramis had. He was more wide awake after his breakfast, and determined to question the bandit leader with no more delay. When d'Artagnan tried to suggest that he take it easy, Athos said Treville had said for him to rest until morning, which was exactly what he had done. Now, he was going to get down to business.

But after interrogating Albert for more than an hour, he still hadn't convinced him to tell them who had hired them. Albert acted almost fearful when he said he wasn't going to tell them anything. So who in the world inspired that kind of fear in a man who had thus far exhibited no fear whatever?

Frustrated, Athos returned to the main body of the camp to talk to Treville, unhappy that they were no nearer to solving the mystery. If the person who had hired Albert was this determined to get his hands on the papers they had been carrying, they had no way of knowing that he hadn't hired others besides the men they had captured.

Treville then changed the subject slightly. "We also need to find those papers. What was Aramis talking about when he was telling Albert about them being 'in the tree', and that he would lead him to them?"

Athos had no idea. He really didn't relish the idea of questioning Aramis about them, either, as it could bring back his disturbed sleep by reminding him of Albert's threats the day before. But he also knew they had to ask him before they started back. The King would have a fit if they returned without them. It was their duty to retrieve them.

Aramis finally awakened about midday. Porthos was very happy, as he wanted to get some more food into him, and he and d'Artagnan had just heated a nice thick broth, usually one of Aramis' favorites.

Bringing a bowl over, he plunked himself down next to Aramis. Then, putting an arm behind his shoulders, he raised him a little higher against a saddle so he could eat. Aramis just let him do what he wanted, smiling as his brother fussed over him.

"I have the feeling you want me to finish whatever is in that bowl?" he asked, with raised eyebrows, teasing Porthos.

Porthos was so happy to see Aramis joking, he burst out in a big grin. "I expect you to eat every bite," he responded.

Aramis let out a dramatic sigh, then proceeded to do exactly as Porthos had hoped, making the big man even more happy.

Athos came over after they were all finished with the noon meal, taking Porthos' place next to Aramis. He still really didn't want to be the one to bring up the subject of the missing papers, but he resigned himself to it and said, "Aramis, when you were delirious the other night, you said something about the papers being in a tree?"

Whatever Aramis had expected Athos to say, it wasn't that. He was silent a moment, then said, "I don't remember what I was dreaming. Probably what I would have said to Albert if pandemonium hadn't broken out next."

Athos waited, and Aramis continued. "Athos, the papers are hidden in a knobby hole in a tree by the creek Angelique found me at. I am sure she can guide us to the creek, and I can show you which tree," yawning as he spoke. His body was beginning to tire rapidly. This was the longest he had been awake in several days, and it was protesting now.

Athos noticed, and said, "Thank you, Aramis. You did well. Rest. We will leave in the morning if you are up to it."


	26. Chapter 26

Next morning, Athos was awake before the others. He and Porthos had continued their sleeping arrangements next to Aramis. He gently tapped Aramis on the shoulder. The marksman sleepily shook his head, mumbling, "Sleep now."

Athos tried again, whispering, "Aramis, can you wake up for me?"

Aramis groggily opened his eyes, seeing Athos leaning over him. Then, his eyes gradually became more aware, and he said, "We're leaving?"

When Athos nodded his head, without any warning, Aramis put his hands on the ground and pushed himself up, catching his breath and groaning from the movement. Athos hurriedly grabbed hold of him and laid him back down.

"We aren't leaving just yet. Lay still for a little longer. Please do not try to do things for yourself yet, Aramis. You are very seriously injured. We would like you to recover, and pushing yourself too far too fast is not the way to do it," the last said gently but firmly. He knew how much his brother hated feeling helpless, but right now, he needed to let others do for him as he did for them when they were incapacitated by illness or injury.

When he was sure that Aramis wasn't going to try anything further, Athos moved over to the fire and collected several bowls of the broth one of the Musketeers had simmering. By this time, Porthos and d'Artagnan had awakened. Porthos lifted Aramis up against one of the saddles as support, and Athos brought over some more of the brother Aramis loved so much.

They were very pleased when Aramis finished all of the broth, so they tried some bread, with the same results.

Athos said, "Well done, brother."

Treville had some of the other Musketeers saddling the horses and loading their supplies on them.

When all was ready and the others had mounted ready to leave, Porthos lifted Aramis, despite his protests, into his arms, and carried him to their horses. Setting him down on his feet with d'Artagnan and Athos firmly supporting him, he mounted, and they lifted their brother up into his arms. Porthos' strong arm encircled his brother, holding him against his chest. Angelique rode in front of d'Artagnan, and would direct their way to the spot where she had found Aramis.

Treville had the men he had brought keep an eye on the prisoners, and they headed out on their return journey

They left the camp much happier than they had arrived.

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They had not been too far from the site where Aramis had been discovered by Angelique. By mid-morning, they had arrived.

Aramis, who had been dozing for much of their journey, awoke when the horses' movements ceased. Looking around, he recognized where they were, and sought out the tree he had told them about. Spying it, he shakily raised and pointed a finger at a huge old elm, some of its roots submerged in the creek bed. About five feet from the ground, they could see a hole in its trunk.

Athos went and reached into the hole slowly, not wanting to rouse an angry raccoon or its babies, as that had happened to him in the past. Raccoons loved making their homes in tree holes. Finding the space empty, he felt around, pulling out a bunch of papers tied with a string.

Looking at Aramis, he said, "Well done, brother."

Albert was looking daggers at Aramis, angry that he had lost his opportunity to earn the commission offered him for those papers. The fury was evident on his face. Athos glanced at him, and just smirked. There was nothing the bandit leader could do, and he knew it.

Athos handed over the papers to Treville, who tucked them away inside his doublet. They then resumed their journey back to Paris.

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Jean had been trailing the Musketeers, even though he well knew that now that their the others had joined up, it would be impossible to get to Angelique.

He watched as one of the Musketeers dismounted, and then retrieved some papers from the hole in the old elm tree. He realized these must be the very papers Albert wanted so much to get his hands on, the ones worth a great deal of money once he brought them to his buyer. His mind started to scheme.

He wasn't exactly happy with how he had been treated by Albert and his men, but he had also earned a lot of extra money doing jobs for them. If he could somehow free Albert, maybe they could get their hands on the papers and still make the money Albert had been hoping for. At the very least, Albert would be grateful to him for freeing him, and maybe resume giving him the odd jobs he counted on for additional income.

He kept watching, looking for an opportunity now. He noticed that the ones who kept watch on the bandits most of the time were what looked like new Musketeers, cadets, who were not as experienced doing their job yet. All he had to do was watch for his opportunity. Things might still come out all right for him yet.

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They started back for Paris, moving at an easy pace so it would be easier on Aramis. The marksman was exhausted, even though he would be the last person to complain about his condition. Athos knew that, so he kept an eye on him. He knew his brothers, so he already knew Porthos and d'Artagnan would be watching him also.

They stopped in mid-afternoon for a long break, and Athos ordered Aramis to take a nap, even if, as Aramis had already pointed out to him, he was "doing fine". The others rubbed down the horses, started a fire to cook a meal, and tended to their weapons and saddles.

In a small clearing a few yards from the main camp, the two young cadets sat talking with each other. The prisoners were tied to trees,and they had already figured it was easy assignment keeping an eye on them from time to time.

Jean noticed that the cadets weren't watching at all times, and thought 'this is the perfect-and maybe-only opportunity he would get'.

Sneaking in closer, he bided his time until the cadets were once again turned towards each other conversing. In swift movements, he approached the tree Albert was tied to, put a hand over his mouth and sliced the ropes at the same time. Surprised, Albert started to struggle, until he saw just who it was and what he was doing. A smile stretched across his face at the unexpected rescue. Sliding his body around the tree trunk, he and Jean took off, just as the cadets noticed what had happened, and shouted for help before taking off after the two men.

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Jean and Albert decided on the run that they would split up. At least one of them would hopefully get away. It had been Jean's suggestion, knowing he was the more experienced woodsman. He hoped both of them would get away by doing this. They went opposite directions through the forest.

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The Musketeers all got to their feet when they heard the call for help.

Aramis had lifted himself halfway off the ground, before a firm but gentle hand from Porthos landed on his chest, keeping him from going any further.

"Aramis, you are in no shape to be running through the woods, and you know it, mon ami," Porthos said.

When he saw that Aramis was going to protest, Porthos said, "Do you know what it would do to us if you were hurt worse, brother?"

Seeing Aramis reluctantly nod his hand, Porthos smiled, saying, "Now, are you going to stay put?"

Again, Aramis nodded, but Porthos knew his brother. "Promise?" he asked.

Knowing he had just lost, Aramis quietly said, "Promise."

Porthos squeezed his shoulder gently and took off after the others. Aramis laid his head back down on the saddle.

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When the Musketeers got to the clearing where the prisoners were being kept, Treville noticed immediately that Albert was gone. Fuming, he split up his men in different directions to track him down.

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Angelique had seen how despondent Aramis was to be left behind by his brothers. Getting up and coming over, she sat down beside him and took his hand.

"They love you, you know," she began.

He nodded, not looking at her or anything. He felt useless right now, not being able to help his brothers.

She said, "You would break their hearts if you reinjured yourself, Aramis. You know that, don't you?" unknowingly saying basically what Porthos had said to him.

Reluctantly knowing she was right, as Porthos had also been, Aramis nodded.

Angelique asked him if he would like some of the broth they had been cooking before they left, and he agreed so she wouldn't feel bad.

Going to the campfire, she filled a bowl with the delicious-smelling broth to bring him. Getting up and turning around, she froze. Albert was standing over Aramis with a gun leveled at his head.

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Just a small note: Again, it is personal experience with the raccoons making their homes in big old trees. I still have several photos of 4 baby raccoons looking out at me from a hole about 10 feet up in a huge 400-year-old oak tree.


	27. Chapter 27

Her heart beating furiously in panic, Angelique frantically tried to think of something to do. Now that Albert had her attention, a smile slowly formed, knowing she was helpless to do anything to stop him. He reached down and grabbed a handful of Aramis' hair, yanking it back and holding it there.

"Come here, girl," Albert said. When she was slow to do as he ordered, he shook Aramis' head, causing him to groan.

"Please, don't hurt him. I am coming,"Angelique blurted out, moving slowly towards him as she spoke, her eyes never leaving Aramis' agonized face.

When she came within a few feet of him, Albert stopped her. "No closer. Stay where you are."

Stopping, Angelique waited, not knowing what Albert would do next.

"You're a real pretty one," he said, looking her up and down. "You don't seem to take after your papa in looks. I would say that is a good thing," laughing at his own comment.

"Maybe...", he stopped and thought about something, his mouth slowly twisting into an evil grin. "My plans may be quite diverted here. You are an unexpected handful. I think...yes, I've decided. I could do with a nice lovely handful like you to lighten my day. I could teach you just the right way to please me. Maybe I will buy you pretty dresses and a few trinkets to wear if you're good enough to me. You, young lady, will be coming with me."

Aramis, hearing with horror what Albert was saying to Angelique, tried to twist free. Albert's hand in his head gave a vicious yank, and the pistol moved with lightning speed from Aramis' forehead and now pressed hard under his twin pains of having his head pulled back and now the pistol against his Adam's apple shortened his breath, and he had difficulty drawing nearly enough air in to breathe.

The bandit captain said, "Before we leave together, my love, I want the documents we have had such a difficult time locating. You are going to give them to me-now," again shaking Aramis' head. His eyes closed in pain, his breathing harsh and ragged.

Angelique cried out, "I don't know where they are. The Musketeers have them. Please, don't hurt him any more."

Albert was about to reply when he saw motion out of the corner of his eye. Athos and Porthos had returned, realizing that they had left Aramis and Angelique alone, and now were rapidly approaching.

Albert again shook Aramis' head, saying, "If you value your friend's life, you will hand over the papers I've been after. And you will do so without delay. I have no patience right now, as your friend will find out in a few moments."

Athos and Porthos looked at each other, near-panic in their eyes. They didn't trust this man for a moment to think that once he had what he wanted, he would release Aramis. He had to know as soon as he had no shield, both of them would cut him down before he could move.

They could see the tortuous angle Albert had pulled Aramis' head into. They could also see that his body was sagging now,and only the hold Albert had him in was keeping him upright, and that he was having trouble breathing.

That was as far as they were able to observe,because at that moment, pandemonium struck. Angelique saw that Albert was so focused on Athos and Porthos that his pistol had slightly turned to the side.

Without any hesitation, she threw the pot of hot broth directly towards the left of Albert's face. He screamed, and his finger inadvertently pulled the trigger of his pistol, the shot hitting the ground harmlessly in front of him. Dropping both the pistol and Aramis, he covered his face with his hands from the pain.

When the grip on his hair was released, Aramis dropped like a stone to the ground, Angelique instantly at his side. "Aramis, are you all right?" she fearfully asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He didn't answer, but his body was shaking from the reaction to the trauma he had once again experienced. Porthos sat beside him and lifted his head and shoulders into his lap, running his hand through his friend's hair to soothe him.

Athos, meantime, pulled Albert's hands behind him and tied them. Then, he pried the bandit's hands away from his face, and after looking, said, "You're going to live, more's the pity." The soup hadn't been boiling hot, so it was more the unexpectedness of the attack and something flung in his face that had shocked him. His face was red, but not the red it would have been if the broth had been boiling hot, and there were no blisters forming. Sitting him down roughly on the ground, Athos hurried over to see how Aramis was, just as the rest of the Musketeers came running into sight, drawn by the sound of the pistol shot.

Aramis was still silent, with Porthos trying to get him to calm his breathing. "Come on, Aramis. Breathe with me." Finally, he got through to his traumatized brother, whose breathing finally started to even out. "That's it. You're fine. This young lady turned the trick. Albert didn't stand a chance against her," turning an admiring glance upon Angelique, who blushed and looked down at the compliment.

Treville and d'Artagnan had by now reached them. Treville demanded, "What on earth just happened here?" looking at Aramis in Porthos' arms.

"Obviously, from the tracks we were following, Albert and Jean split up. Albert headed this direction, came upon Aramis and Angelique alone, and acted on his opportunity. He aimed his pistol at Aramis' head, and demanded that Angelique give him the papers he's been hunting. But she didn't have them.

She had been cooking some broth for Aramis, saw her opportunity, and threw the broth in his face, freeing Aramis. This young lady is indeed a true heroine today," looking over at her, and once again her cheeks reddened at the compliment.


	28. Chapter 28

Aramis, exhausted by the day's events, slept through the rest of the day and night, never moving. Angelique never strayed from his side, his hand held in hers as if she needed constant contact to believe the threat was really over. She had lain down beside him, but sleep wouldn't come to her.

She had never been a person to dwell on the bad in the world. But evil came too close today for comfort. When she thought about how close Aramis had come to being killed, shivers involuntarily ran through her body.

She knew she loved him, wholly and unreservedly. But she also knew she had seen no signs that he returned that affection. Did he find her unacceptable? She really had never given a thought to her own looks, not having seen that many women in her life to compare herself to, even if she had been that kind of a woman. Did he have someone waiting for him in Paris? When she contemplated that possiblility, it was as if a cold hand was squeezing her heart.

Softly stroking his hand with her thumb, she treasured the small intimate moment, moments coming only from her side, never his. She needed to face the fact that it was a one-sided longing, but it such an overwhelming feeling, this love for him, and she hadn't been able to just push it aside.

Turning her thoughts to her father, she still remained shocked at his behavior. He had always been such a loving father to her. He wasn't the type of father to physically punish his daughter for infractions, although she had tested his patience often over the years. She would be enjoying herself so much wandering in the woods that she would sometimes come back as evening was already falling, to find her father on the front steps anxiously scanning the treeline for her. Or she would find an injured baby bird and lose track of time nursing it to give back to its mother. Once, she had fallen asleep to the hushed sounds of various woodland animals going about their daytime activities. That time when she got back, it was fully dark, and her father had tears in his eyes as he gathered her to him for a fierce hug. In all cases, she knew that he would have been in the woods hunting for her, but the woods were so widespread, he didn't always have luck.

Although she had never seen the savage behavior he had exhibited towards Aramis, she had, on occasion, seen a strange light in his eyes when he thought he was alone. She had heard strange sounds coming from him sometimes when he was asleep, obviously in the grip of a nightmare. His voice, calling out in his sleep, hadn't even sounded like her papa's voice. She had dismissed the dreams as products of an unconscious imagination, but now, she wished she had paid more attention to them. Maybe she would have heard an inkling of something that could explain his evil behavior now.

Finally falling asleep in the middle of the night, her musings had drawn her no nearer to an explanation than before. Even in her sleep, her arm reached out to lay across Aramis' shoulder, her need to love and protect him drawing her even closer to him.

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Athos and Porthos, one on the opposite side of Aramis as Angelique, and one near his head , also stayed close to his side.

Porthos was unable to fall asleep even hours after he laid had been altogether too many instances of late that had nearly taken his dearly-loved brother from them. When he thought of how close each of those instances had come to Aramis' death, he shuddered. And Aramis needed a space of time now to just heal, but their duty lay in getting back to Paris as soon as possible, forcing Aramis to endure many hours in the saddle with wounds to his body that still desperately needed a quiet time of healing. He didn't have Aramis' steadfast and strong faith to cling to, although at times like these, he wished he did.

He had seen Angelique holding Aramis' hand, and felt compassion for the young woman who was so obviously in love. But he knew his brother, and was sure the feelings weren't reciprocated. Love couldn't just be produced because another longed for it, and he felt so sorry for Angelique. He felt sorry for Aramis, too, as he had the feeling from some of the glances he had seen him give Angelique, that he was aware of the intensity of her feelings. He knew how much Aramis cared about those around him, and wouldn't want to be the cause of her being hurt. It was a hard situation to resolve.

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Athos, laying near Aramis' head, was gently running his fingers through his brother's unruly curls. This time, itwasn't to calm his brother down from a nightmare or for the pain he was in. This time, itwas because once again they could have lost him to another senseless act of violence, and he needed to feel his brother's physical presence for the moment.

When he had come into sight of their camp with Porthos, and saw the bandit leader with his hand fisted in Aramis' hair, forcing his head back, and with the barrel of his pistol against Aramis' Adam's apple, his heart had frozen. Unable to do anything to remedy the situation, he could only be profoundly grateful for Angelique's quick thinking that had saved their beloved brother. How close they had come so many times now to the unthinkable. A world without their brother would be less full of light, laughter, warmth and joy. They each needed the others to make a whole. One missing was a form of death he didn't want to contemplate.

Closing his eyes, sleep came with his fingers still resting on his brother's hair.

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D'Artagnan leaned down and laid his hand gently on his battered brother's head for a moment, before heading for the edge of the camp. Treville and the other Musketeers had left a short while ago to take the prisoners back to Paris, leaving Athos, Porthos and himself to follow more slowly with Aramis.

Athos had tried valiantly to convince d'Artagnan to share the night watch duties, but d'Artagnan wanted to give of himself in this way to protect his brothers. It gave him a peace and calmness that he was keeping an eye out when the others desperately needed some sleep.

He doubted that Jean would try something so stupid as to attack an armed Musketeers camp, but the man was obviously not well in the head, so anything was still possible.

Pulling his musket closer, and the hood of his cloak over his head, he settled in for the night, just as grateful as his brothers that the potential tragedy of the day had been averted and their brother was safe. He intended to make sure it stayed that way.


	29. Chapter 29

In the middle of the night, Aramis became restless. Exhausted, Porthos and Angelique had both finally fallen asleep, despite their best intentions. Athos, nodding off and one, was still more or less awake when he noticed Aramis' movements. Concerned that his brother might be having the nightmares again, he reached a hand out and began threading his fingers through Aramis' hair to calm him down.

Aramis was definitely disturbed by something, but Athos noticed that there was no fear or pain involved, like before. What was his poor, beleagured brother experiencing now?

He didn't have long to wait. Aramis mumbled something in his sleep, then said more clearly, "The tattoo. She has the tattoo!" emphasizing the last word.

A short silence ensued, then he was speaking softly again. "I'm the only one who can protect her now. It's my responsibility. The blood..."

Athos waited, but Aramis seemed to have finally succumbed to a deeper sleep, as his body stilled and was once more at peace. Athos continued to run his hand over his brother's hair, wondering what his brother's words could have meant. He needed to talk with Aramis, but not when he was so weak yet from the trauma his body had been through. Perhaps when they finally got home to the garrison, and his brother had finally had a few nights sleep in the comfort of his own bed, he could bring the matter up. Whatever he had been dreaming, it was definitely troubling him. His restlessness had spoken as loudly as his words.

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Next morning, They took longer over their breakfast than they usually did when on a mission, mainly to give Aramis a little more time. He ate all of the porridge Porthos gave him, as well as a little bread and some water, and seemed more alert than he had been for some time, which was encouraging to all his brothers.

Athos and Treville decided to check Aramis' injuries before leaving. They were further encouraged when no signs of infection were present anywhere. He was still very weak, and prone to sleep most of the day, but that in itself was a good thing, as sleep was a very healing process.

When the time came to leave Athos and Porthos assisted Aramis to his feet,where he swayed on his feet. Porthos mounted, and Athos and d'Artagnan gently lifted Aramis up into Porthos' secure arms, where he snuggled down against his brother's massive chest for the long journey. He had absolute trust in each of his brothers, and was asleep before they had gone more than a few hundred yards. Porthos, looking down at the curly locks against his own chest, just smiled.

Treville didn't really expect any more trouble now, but still had two of his men ride a short distance ahead, and two stayed behind the group, all keeping a close eye out for any possible trouble. There were always the occasional bands of bandits, so the precaution was a good one. No trouble presented itself, for which they were all thankful.

After one more night on the road, they finally re-entered Paris around midday. The gates of the garrison loomed ahead, a sight for all their sore eyes. Dismounting, Athos and d'Artagnan reached up for Aramis, who was slowly coming awake. As they lifted him down, his brain awakening from the grogginess of sleep, he looked around.

Athos, noticing him looking, said, "Yes, brother, we are finally home. We will have you in your own bed in a few minutes."

Aramis, smiling, said, "Thank you for you all have done for me," his last words interrupted by a huge yawn he couldn't quite stop. His brothers just smiled.

He was lifted up into Porthos' warm arms a moment later, and in no time at all, was snug in his bed, blankets pulled up to his chin and already fast asleep.

Treville had sent d'Artagnan to the palace to find Constance, who would know where to find Dr. Lemay. Since none of them were doctors, he wanted Lemay to check Aramis over,and make sure he was completely on the mend. He also thought Constance and d'Artagnan could take in Angelique for the time being, as staying in a garrison full of men was not an option and not having anywhere else safe that she could go.

She had entered Paris wide-eyed, having never been anywhere a big city. As they headed down the streets towards the garrison, her eyes took in everything, and her fascination was written on her face. Treville figured Constance could show her around,at the same time watching out for her. The woman loved to mother everyone, even though she probably would have vigorously denied it, he thought, smiling to himself.

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Dr. Lemay and Constance arrived an hour later, and were shocked to see the injuries Aramis had suffered. He and Aramis had had many discussions concerning medicine and treatment, so he felt he knew the Musketeer fairly well. He turned to Athos, asking, "What in the world happened to him?" concern etched on his face.

Athos said, "It began with being attacked by men we believe were posing as bandits. Aramis was shot, and disappeared. We discovered that he had fallen in the river, which carried him a good distance. When he finally left it, he traveled as best as he was able through the creek beds in the forest, afraid that the bandits might have attempted to follow him, as he was carrying important documents to be delivered to the King.

A young woman took him in, but discovered that her father intended to turn Aramis in, so they fled into the forest. We caught up with them, but something had happened to break open the wound on his chest. We took care of him, and were heading back, when he was kidnapped and left to die in the forest by a madman. He was attacked by a wolf, which bit his foot," indicating the bandaged foot. He had some terrible nightmares from it, but we believe he may be over them finally."

Lemay just stared as he heard this horror story. His life was so uneventful compared to what he was hearing. He didn't think he could ever live the life of violence that he continually found these brave men experiencing. He was thankful he could be a catalyst for healing them on those occasions, as he was able to do now.

Constance had been horrified by Aramis' condition. Anne had asked her to come with Dr. Lemay, which had already been planning to do. Her eyes filled with tears at Aramis' plight, she silently wondered how she was going to tell the Queen about his condition, and also how she was going to keep Anne from flying to his side, which could endanger both of them if anyone found out.

De. Lemay had a gentle bedside manner, but even as delicately as he worked, he knew he was causing Aramis pain, especially when he worked on the bitten foot. He did see that there was no infection, which was always the greatest danger when someone was bitten by an animal, especially the danger of rabies. The foot still looked red and painful, and was still a little swollen, but he felt that it would heal, just that it would take some time.

He knew these Musketeers, though, and none of them liked to be bed-ridden. From what they had told him about their recent experience, Aramis had been on his back for some time, mostly unconscious or asleep. When he was more awake, he would be protesting the inactivity, but sleep and less movement were needed for healing, and he would make sure Athos and Treville kept it enforced, no matter how much protest they experienced from their brother about how he was 'just fine'. He also knew about Aramis always trying to give the impression that he was doing well-sometimes when he had a bullet in him somewhere, he thought with an exasperated smile.

Lemay gave his instructions to Athos and also some meds for pain and help with sleeping. He said he would return in the morning, then left.

Constance and d'Artagnan left a little later with Angelique, who protested at having to leave Aramis. But they convinced her that a young, unmarried woman's reputation would be shot if she stayed at a garrision full of men. That almost didn't fully convince her, not knowing enough about society's ways, but when Constance further told her the garrison's reputation would be damaged, as well, for letting her stay,she reluctantly agreed to go with them.

Leaning down over the bed, she tenderly kissed Aramis on the forehead, her hand caressing his cheek, before she left. Constance's eyebrows rose at this, having not been told yet how Angelique felt about Aramis.

When they had left, Treville returned to his office, Athos settled down in a chair by the bedside,while Porthos went to see about getting everyone a meal. When Serge saw him coming, he immediately wanted to know how Aramis was. Porthos filled him in, and Serge hurried to get some food for them all. He knew how much Aramis loved his broth, and the fruit tarts he occasionally made. He had a couple left, and put them on the tray with the broth for Aramis, with instructions to Porthos that the tarts were only for Aramis. Porthos with a small grin. Serge knew his Musketeers well, didn't he?

The smell of food wafted in the air when d'Artagnan came through the door, and caused a sleepy-eyed Aramis to mumble, "Hungry."

The other three looked at each other with pleased expressions, happy that their brother was starting to get his appetite back, a very good sign. He let out a little sigh of happiness after finishing both the broth and one of the tarts, his eyes once again drooping.

"You ate real well, Aramis," Porthos said. "It is really good to see you hungry again. You are finally starting to get better. You had us real worried, mon amie.

Aramis, trying to fight off sleep, murmured, "You and me both, P'thos. For a while there...I didn't think I ...would make it," his voice getting softer as he finally fell asleep.

That startled all of them, tears filling their eyes as they looked up at each other. Aramis generally downplayed his own health, and for him to have said what he just had made them realize all the more just how close they had come to losing their brother. It also made them incredibly grateful for the beginning of his return to health. None of them could imagine a world without him at their sides.

The next morning, Aramis ate very well again, and then stayed awake for part of the morning. Dr. Lemay came by again, and was very pleased with his progress.

Aramis, being Aramis and still drowsy, still asked how long he needed to be in bed. Dr. Lemay became stern and strict, saying he would be restricted to bed until further notice, not giving him any time frame, as yet. The others echoed the doctor's words, telling Aramis not to push things. Porthos even told him, "If you try to get out of that bed today, I'm gonna eat that other fruit tart we been saving for your dinner tonight."

Trying to hide the grins threatening to split their faces, Athos and d'Artagnan watched as Aramis feigned shock and hurt at Porthos' words. Yes, their brother was really starting to exhibit some of his normal self again. Inwardly, they rejoiced again at the progress they were seeing.


	30. Chapter 30

Angelique came to the garrison two days after moving to Constance's house. Constance had finally said it was all right, after seeing how downcast and somber Angelique had become. She had seen Angelique with Aramis, and knew she had a tendre for the Musketeer. She knew he was in love with Anne, as Anne was with him. She just hoped Angelique was not in for a painful letdown.

Angelique made a beeline for Aramis' room as soon as she came through the garrison gates. Porthos was with him, and when he saw her come into the room, he gave her a big smile.

"I'm sure he will be very glad to see you, Angelique," he greeted her. Then,seeming to remember something, he asked her," Could you stay with him for a few minutes while I fill the water jug? It's run dry."

Receiving a small nod from Angelique, he picked up the jug and headed out the door.

Angelique leaned forward, glad of a few minutes alone with Aramis, even if he was asleep. She gazed upon his face, drinking in every facet. Knowing now that she was in love with him, she could not get enough of just looking at him. This was all so new to her. She didn't know what she was supposed to do, so acted on pure instinct. Leaning farther forward, she pressed a soft kiss on his lips, her heart thumping so wildly, she was sure she was going to wake him up and be terribly embarrassed by what she had done.

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Aramis was dreaming. It had been so long since he had seen Anne, and he missed her terribly. In his dream, she came to him, her long beautiful hair flowing free down her back, a lovely pale blue dress robing her body. Her eyes shown with love as she came nearer, a smile forming as she gazed at her handsome Musketeer, her love and her life. Reaching up on tiptoe, she kissed him, watching his eyes light up with love.

He began to come awake, still in a half-dream state. He felt lips on his, soft as a butterfly, but something felt off-key. He didn't know, in the half-conscious state he was in, what exactly it was, but it didn't feel right at all. At last opening his eyes, he saw, not Anne, but Angelique lifting her face up from his. Shock and panic warred inside him as he now came fully awake.

Angelique must have seen the emotions he was feeling registering on his face as he backed away on the bed. Her hand coming up to cover her mouth, she got up and ran for the door, tears now spilling down her face.

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Athos, returning to the garrison after his errand, saw Porthos at the well filling the water jug. Heading over to him in concern, he asked him," Is Aramis alone?"

Porthos shook his head, saying, "Angelique is with him."

Nodding, Athos headed for Aramis' room. Just as he was about to turn the knob, Angelique burst by him, her face flowing with tears, and ran across the compound towards the gate.

Confused at the encounter, Athos headed into Aramis' room, only to see his brother half-sitting up, shock still registering on his face.

In a moment he was at the bedside, urging his brother to lay back down. "What happened, Aramis?" he asked softly, concern for his brother paramount in his mind.

"She kissed me," Aramis said, still registering disbelief at what had happened.

"She what?" Athos echoed.

"She kissed me while I was asleep. I was dreaming of Anne, and woke up seeing Angelique over me. I must have frightened the life out of her by my reaction. I backed away like I had been bitten," Aramis said, concern for Angelique now coloring his thoughts.

"Athos, would you go after her?" Aramis asked. "She has to be terribly hurt. It shouldn't have happened. It's very wrong and a sin, but all she is likely thinking is that I rejected her, that I didn't like her. It's not that at all."

"Aramis, we need to talk," Athos began.

"Not now, Athos, please," Aramis replied. "Please go to her first. She may be wandering the streets in confusion, and she doesn't know Paris. There are men who prey on young girls like her. Please?"

Athos couldn't say no to the urgent plea he heard in Aramis' voice. Nodding his head, he left to find Angelique.

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Aramis head was in a whirl. He had thought to spare Angelique by not revealing what he knew, and instead he had made it worse. Whatever happened, he didn't want her to be hurt any more than she had already been hurt a few moments ago.

He was growing steadily more groggy as his body was demanding sleep, but he refused to give in to it. He needed to be awake when Athos returned. He had to know that Angelique was all right.

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Athos caught up with Angelique after he saw the edge of her cream-colored dress disappearing around the corner of the garrison gates. Catching up to her, he lightly reached out for her elbow, bringing her to a halt. When she turned around to him, her eyes were still flooded with tears, and her whole face was puffy and bright pink.

"Angelique, Aramis asked me to find you to make sure you are safe."

"I'm fine," she answered, hiccuping from the force of her tears.

"Would you allow me to escort you home?" he asked.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say she didn't need anyone right now, but remembered that Constance would be very worried if she didn't come back, and she had been so nice to take her into her home. So, with a small nod, she said, "Yes."

He gently took her arm, and walked with her to Constance's door, where he delivered her safely into the arms of the mothering of Madame Bonacieux. Glad that he had been able to do Aramis' favor, Athos turned around to retrace his steps to the garrison, hoping to finally be able to talk to Aramis about that dream he had overheard.

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Getting back to the garrison, Athos headed for Aramis' room. Porthos was asleep in the chair by the bed, one hand laying on his brother's. Aramis was fast asleep, and Athos was torn. He wanted so much to talk to Aramis, but he also knew how good the sleep was in healing him. Sighing, he resigned himself to waiting a little longer.

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Nest morning, Athos brought Aramis breakfast. Porthos and d'Artagnan had unexpectedly been assigned to palace duty for the day, as the two Musketeers originally designated to go had come down with colds, and knowing Louis' fear of illness, Treville had replaced them with Porthos and d'Artagnan.

When Aramis had finished all the porridge and the bit of bread Athos had brought for his breakfast, Athos removed the tray and sat down on the edge of the bed. He covered Aramis' hand with his own, and squeezed it gently.

"How are you feeling, brother?" Athos asked.

Aramis heaved a big sigh and said, "I am beginning to wonder when I am going to be truly well, Athos. I am so tired almost all the time. I have no energy, and the pain doesn't seem to go away. It's discouraging."

Athos was very surprised to hear Aramis say that. He knew how much Aramis tried to downplay his injuries and illnesses. They all did. And for him to reveal this told him his brother was not close to healing yet. Yet, he still felt he needed to have the talk he had been waiting for private time to bring up.

"I am sure you are healing fine. Dr. Lemay wouldn't tell us you would be well if he saw something preventing it. It may just be that you have had such a long time unable to move about normally that it discourages you . It would definitely discourage me."

"Maybe," Aramis said. Maybe tomorrow will be better."

Athos took a deep breath, and said, "Aramis, may I ask you something?"

Aramis looked up at Athos, a question clear in his eyes. "You know you can, Athos. We have no secrets."

Athos began,"A short while ago, you said Angelique kissing you was a sin." At this, Aramis' eyes left him as he looked down, his whole face a picture of anguish.

"A few nights ago, when we were still journeying back to Paris, you had a rather disturbing dream. I did not want to bring it up when we first got back as you were just not well enough even for conversations. But, if I may, I would like to do so now."

Hi body full of tension now, Aramis just nodded.

Now that the moment had come, Athos hesitated. He didn't want Aramis emotionally overwrought, but felt it needed to be discussed.

"You were restless that night. I could see that you were dreaming, and at first, I feared that the attack nightmares might be coming back. But this was entirely different. You began mumbling, saying something about 'she has the tattoo."

Aramis froze. How had he managed to talk out loud about that?

Athos was engrossed in trying to repeat the comments of the dream accurately,and missed the reaction of his brother to what he was saying.

Athos went on. "Then, you said something about being the only one who could protect her. That it was your responsibility. Then, you said..."

Aramis was almost afraid to ask what he said next. How much had he revealed?

"I said...what exactly?"

"Aramis, you said, "The blood!" He paused, and then went on. "Aramis, I do not want to pry, but I am very concerned for you. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

He waited. Aramis lay with his eyes closed, trying to calm himself down. How did he tell Athos this? Finally, he reopened his eyes, gazing up at Athos, his beloved brother, who loved him dearly and only wanted to help, as they all desired to do for each other. But it was so hard.

Drawing a deep breath, Aramis continued to gaze up into Athos' eyes, as he slowly said, "Athos, Angelique is my sister."


	31. Chapter 31

I'm sorry that this chapter isn't shorter. I have to make an unexpected 8-hour drive today, 4 hours each way. I will also be packing and then moving at the end of this week, so I am not sure if I can get a chapter ready for next Sunday. (No, the drive and the move have nothing to do with each other-lol. Just a very busy week. But if there is a way, I will do it.

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Athos was stunned. Whatever he might have imagined would be revealed, that was certainly not it. How in the world was that even possible? He knew Aramis' background, and never had he mentioned this.

Hesitant, which was unlike him, Athos asked Aramis, "How do you know this for sure?"

Aramis sighed, and closed his eyes. At first, Athos thought he might have just been exhausted and given in to it. But then, his brother opened his eyes, looking at Athos as he said, "I came upon her unexpectedly while she was bathing. Athos, we all know each other's bodies pretty well from times when one or the other of us was sick or injured. You remember the birthmark on my left shoulder?"

At Athos' nod, Aramis continued. "She has the same birthmark-exactly the same, in the same place. The only other person I have ever seen with it was my-our mother. Angelique is my sister."

Athos said," She does not know," saying it as a statement, not a question.

"No, she doesn't, and I would rather she not know until I can find the right time to tell her. Jean talked while I was his captive. He talked about his father bringing him to the brothel when he was young, then when he was old enough, he came alone. He said he liked to do things to women, and the women there had to do what he wanted, unlike the women in his village."

Aramis paused, memories of that time when he had been so helpless in the woods while Jean related the story bringing fresh pain to him. Finally, he continued.

"He wanted to ... to get rid of me so Angelique could come back, thinking that they would go on with the life they had led before. He seemed to like having his daughter isolated and dependent on him, and it was like he needed it desperately. It's hard to describe how he spoke."

He again paused a moment before softly going on. "Athos, the man definitely has something wrong with him, aside from wanting to commit murder. He seems to be two different people." At Athos' raised eyebrow, he said, "First, he would sound like the man I knew as Angelique's father, soft-spoken, almost apologetic about what was happening to me. Then, he..."

Athos could see that it was difficult for Aramis to relive the terror he had been put through. His hand, still clasping his brother's, began to lightly trace circles to soothe Aramis, as he waited until his brother could calm himself down emotionally to go on.

"Then, he would ... change. That is the only way I can desribe it. His voice would become rougher, meaner, threatening. I could feel the violence in him." Aramis paused again, a shiver running up his spine as he remembered laying there totally helpless in the hands of a madman.

He continued, "He seemed to have no conscience about what he was doing to me. A well-known physician I once spoke with told me about people who can have two personalities, not always knowing it. Athos, it will tear Angelique apart to find this out about her father. It is hard enough for her to think her father tried to kill me, but to find out there is a completely separate and evil side that lurks in him. Please let me be the one to tell her, and when it is the right time?"

Athos, understanding now the mystery of Angelique, was silent a moment before replying. "It may very well be one of the hardest things you have ever set yourself to do, mon amie. You do know she may very well have fallen in love with you?" Receiving a mournful nod from Aramis, he continued. "When she is anywhere near you, her eyes never leave you, and the fondness and also the longing are very evident. We have all observed it for several days on the journey back to Paris. It is undoubtedly going to be very painful for her, as well." After a moment of silence, and seeing how exhausted his brother was once more becoming, he knew he couldn't continue their conversation.

` "May I tell Porthos and d'Artagnan?"

Receiving a slow nod from his increasingly sleepy brother, he said, "You have more than earned the right to find a good time to tell her, Aramis. I am so sorry for what she will learn. Sometimes a person may have a parent who isn't the best in the world, but to have a father who is both a loving parent and a crazed killer in the same body would be very difficult to absorb. Hopefully...", and he stopped, not wanting to bring up the menace to both he and Angelique that continued to hover over their lives as long as Jean remained on the loose and they did not know where he was.

But Aramis obviously had the same thing on his mind, as he said, "Constance and d'Artagnan will keep close watch over her. That man will never get a chance to spirit her away." As he said this, his eyelids started to droop again, his body awake for a longer time than it had been for quite some time. Athos squeezed his hand before releasing it, saying,

"Rest, have things well in hand, brother," before leaning back in his chair to keep their continued vigil over their brother.

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Porthos returned from the palace around midday, stopping on the way to the infirmary to pick up some lunch for himself, Aramis and Athos. D'Artagnan had gone to see Constance before returning to the garrison.

Pushing open the infirmary door with his foot because his hands were carrying a fully loaded tray of food, Porthos found both Aramis and Athos sound asleep. Tiptoeing to a table, he laid the tray there, coming to the bed to check on how Aramis was doing. Laying a hand against his brother's cheek, he fondly smiled at his best friend as he peacefully slept.

He was startled when he heard, "He was awake for a good while this morning. He seems to be slowly getting better."

Porthos turned to see a now-awake Athos with a little smile on his lips at the notion that he had managed to startle his brother. "Your turn is coming," Porthos said to Athos with a grin.

They moved over to the table to eat their lunch where they could talk without awakening Aramis, since they both wanted him to get as much rest as possible. D'Artagnan joined them a short while later.

It was right after they finished eating that Athos startled the others by saying, "Aramis has given my permission to share some rather startling news with you, and he may or may not be needing our assistance in dealing with it."

If he hadn't had their attention before, that would have done it, as two pairs of instantly concerned eyes were not boring into him, each worried that Aramis may have heard some negative news about his health.

Athos didn't keep them in suspense for very long. "It seems our brother has acquired a sister." Porthos and d'Artagnan's expressions had now changed to one of disbelief, as they tried to wrap their minds around this bit of very unexpected news.


	32. Chapter 32

Sorry this is such a short chapter. I have been moving all week, plus the preparations for the Bishop coming for our parish Confirmations and our singing at Mass for it, and am a little exhausted. Hopefully, next week should be back to normal.

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Porthos, never one to beat around the bush, instantly blurted out, "What sister?", and then stopped short as if his mind had supplied him with the answer. "It's Angelique, isn't it?"

Athos was not in the least surprised that Porthos had come upon the truth. "Yes, and he does not know yet how to tell her. She has no clue about the relationship. He is very aware of her feelings for him, which does not surprise me. He said he would like to be the one to tell her when he finds the right time, whenever that might be. It will likely tear her apart, as despite the things he has done, she does love him still.

Aramis also told me something else. He said Jean seems to have two personalities, one good and one evil. As difficult as it will be to tell her they are brother and sister, given her affection for him, how does one tell a very sheltered young woman that her father has another side of him with no morals, no sense of doing wrong, and that it will not be safe for her to near him again?

I would give anything to spare Aramis this situation. He is still recovering from his ordeal, is very weak yet, and yet it is obvious his mind is searching for ways to shield her from this pain. It could hinder his recovery. We do not leave him alone in the next few days. We know Aramis, and even though he is not well, that might not stop him from seeking her out to talk with her. That is the last thing we want. Not only might it cause a relapse, but we do not know where Jean is. He, on the other hand, knows we are Musketeers, and would be able to find the garrison with no trouble. Aramis must not be alone for a moment.

D'Artagnan, please go and tell Constance not to allow Angelique to go out, even if she is accompanying her. It is too dangerous right now. I am going to talk to Treville, give him Jean's description, and suggest keeping a watch out for Jean or someone hired by him approaching the gates. I do not think there are any members of the bandits left that he could contact, but if he has a few coins, he could very well hire someone in Paris to spy on us. We just need to be very careful right now, brothers."

D'Artagnan, stunned with all this news, suggested, "Maybe I should stay with Constance and Angelique? The same thing applies there, as Jean could also hire one or two men to search the neighborhoods near the garrison. I also know Constance. She will not like being cooped up in the house. It would not do for her to go out to do errands and leave Angelique there, as Angelique is liable to go out, as well. She has no reason to fear her father harming her, or using her to get to Aramis, as she does not know the truth yet."

Athos responded, "Good idea. Porthos and I will stay with Aramis, while you keep an eye on our other location. We must be one step ahead of anything Jean might try, brothers."

"Nobody gets by me to hurt Aramis again," Porthos vowed, a fierce look in the eyes that then turned affectionate and protective when he looked over at his very-much loved brother.

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The next several days were uneventful, Athos and Porthos taking turns staying with Aramis, while the other would get meals and run errands.

Aramis gradually began feeling more himself, and as he did so, he naturally wanted to get up and go out into the compound and enjoy the beautiful weather he could just about see out his window. He had always been an impossible patient when recovering from an illness and injury, and now was no exception.

When asking didn't get them to agree, he would plead for them to take pity on him laying there all day with nothing to do. Athos reminded him that his doctor had not told him he was allowed up yet, and for that day, at least, Aramis gave in.

But the next day, he was asking again. The problem was, Athos and Porthos knew how they felt when they were recuperating-exactly the same. Aramis was just a little more insistent than they were.

Porthos finally brought a couple of pistols up from the armoury for him to clean, provided he didn't leave his bed, but only sat upright to do it. That worked until Aramis would feel the fresh breezes blowing in his window and the birds chirping nearby, which brought back his longing.

Athos, who had begun to run out of ideas to keep him in bed, finally said in exasperation, "You know you need to be resting, Aramis. It would not do to re-injure yourself. If...", pausing to emphasize his point. "IF you promise to lean on Porthos and I," stopping Aramis as he saw him starting to raise himself out of bed. "AND stay put on the bench when we reach the table, we will bring you down for a short time."

Aramis' eyes were already shining in anticipation. He started to get up again, but Athos had already anticipated the move and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Aramis, remember what you just promised?", and Aramis reluctantly lay back down again. "We just need to wait until Porthos comes back in a few minutes," smiling as his brother let out a huge sigh at the delay.

Porthos soon came back, and together with Athos supported Aramis out into the yard. Settling him on the bench, they sat down one on either side of him as he closed his eyes and turned his face upwards to the sun's rays. Several of the Musketeers came over from their fencing practice to greet him, and then he sat and watched their movements with a smile. Athos and Porthos enjoyed seeing their beleagured brother enjoy some happy moments. They kept an eye out for any telltale signs that he was tiring himself out too much, or that his injuries might be paining him, but he seemed fine with the excursion.

All too soon, Athos told him it was time to go back inside, and as expected, Aramis didn't want to go. But Athos had the upper hand by saying if his orders weren't followed, no outing the next day, and Aramis reluctantly complied. Both Athos and Porthos could feel a tiredness in Aramis' body as they supported him back inside, and insisted he take a nap. Since Aramis' eyes were already halfway closed in drowsiness, he turned his head on the pillow and a moment later was asleep.

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Jean had reached Paris two days ago. He immediately hired a couple of boys to spy on the Musketeer garrison. He wanted to learn the garrison's routines, and also wanted to find out where his daughter was. He didn't intend to make a move until he had a good plan and opportunity. He didn't care how long it took. He was in no hurry.

He wandered around the neighborhoods near the garrison,asking questions of the inhabitants. He began asking around, searching for helpers who didn't mind doing a bit of dirty work for a good price, and who seemed like men who would keep quiet about what they were asked to do.

He thought to himself, "I should have killed that Musketeer instead of leaving nature to take care of him. While the other Musketeers were distraught over his death, he could have easily taken Angelique out of their clutches. Now, I have just made it a harder job for myself, but I always finish what I have started. They will never know what is happening until it is too late to stop it," chuckling to himself about his plans.

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Angelique was at her wit's end. She wanted so much to go and see how Aramis was doing. Her heart just wasn't into staying hidden in this house. She didn't see any danger to herself if she went out. Her father would never hurt her. He had no reason to do her any harm. If she could just think of a way to give d'Artagnan and Constance the slip for a little while.


	33. Chapter 33

Athos and Porthos took Aramis out each day for an hour or two, and they could see that he was gradually getting stronger. He loved being out, and looked forward, like it was the highlight of each day. They couldn't have been happier.

Serge came out almost as soon as they sat down, breakfast smells wafting in the air with him. The old cook figured the best way to strengthen Aramis was with food. The tray this morning was piled high, carried by Serge with a bright smile on his face, happy that Aramis was looking so much better.

The doctor came by after the first day's outing, and, since they had been expecting to be chastised for going against doctor's orders, were very pleasantly surprised when he told them the time outside seemed to be good for him. He said each person reacted in their own way during recoveries, and the fresh air seemed to do Aramis a world of good. Aramis just beamed at them. He didn't even say 'I told you so'. The smile did their hearts good.

Thanking the doctor for coming, Athos walked the man out to the gate, while Porthos stayed with Aramis, who was once again resting. "You loved the doctor's visit, didn't you?" he asked his brother.

"Best advice I've heard since I was injured," Aramis replied, with a grin on his face. Then, still smiling, he closed his eyes and was asleep almost immediately, letting Porthos know his brother was a lot more tired than he wanted to let on.

After a week of the mornings outside, they were sitting at their table when they were very surprised at the visitor walking in the gates of the garrison.

Athos frowned, saying, "What happened to d'Artagnan and Constance that Angelique has arrived here on her own?", resolving to get some answers as soon as he saw them. It wasn't like either one of them to ignore someone's safety for personal reasons, so something was up.

Angelique headed straight towards them, her smile widening the closer she got to Aramis. Reaching their table, she laid her hand on his shoulder, leaned down, and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. Aramis, Athos and Porthos exchanged a silent look between them as she did this.

Athos and Porthos' hearts were heavy as they realized Aramis would probably take this unexpected visit to talk to Angelique. They would have done anything to spare his having to be the one to break the news about her father to her, but knew he felt it was his responsibility to do so.

Athos said, "Porthos and I have a meeting with Treville if you wanted to chat?", his eyebrows raising at Aramis as he asked,ready to intercede if his brother felt he wasn't up to the discussion yet. But Aramis slowly nodded, and his brothers left them alone. But they fully intended to keep an eye out if they saw any signs of distress from him.

Aramis asked Angelique to sit beside him, which she very happily did. As he looked into her eyes, and the absolute trust he saw there, he knew this was going to be one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

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` At Constance's dwelling, d'Artagnan heard a violent fight down the street and went to intervene. No sooner had he left than Constance answered a knock at the door. A young boy stood there, wringing his hat in his hands. He said her husband had been injured just now, and could she please come? Constance, worry written on her face, looked back at Angelique. Angelique told her to go, she would be fine indoors. Constance hesitated, then ran out the door with the young boy.

No sooner had she gone than Angelique realized she was now free to go to the garrison and see how Aramis was. She slipped out a window in the back of the house, and took off. Jean, who had thought he had things planned perfectly, entered the house to find no one there. He cursed, then altered his plans.

Calling two of his men, he gave them their orders, then left again. The men headed in the direction of the fracas down the street.

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Athos and Porthos had made the excuse of a meeting with Treville, but headed for the stables where they could give their horses a brushing and still be within sight of their brother. Unfortunately for them, Treville came looking for them, telling them the King requested their presence at a small hunt he had decided to go on right near the palace grounds.

Porthos groaned when he heard the news. "Isn't there anyone else he can take with him, Captain?"

"No, Porthos, he specifically asked for you two, after he heard that his first choice, Aramis, was out of commission at the moment. He expects you there immediately. Aramis will be fine. He is in the garrison, and even though most of the men are gone right now, no one would dare invade our grounds in the middle of the day."

Still grumbling, and joined by Athos' dour countenance, they saddled up, told Aramis where they were going with an admonition to stay put,and left.

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Aramis had decided he would begin by asking a few questions of Angelique regarding her earlier years with her father, hoping he could find a way to steer the conversation around to the subject he needed to talk to her about.

"What was your father like when you were a small child, Angelique?" he asked.

Quiet, but loving and always kind," she replied. "He loved to take me in the woods and teach me about everything there. It's why I know so much now, and why I love to walk there." He could hear the obvious love for her father still present in her speech, even though there was an element of deep hurt, as well. She couldn't understand why he had done the things he had recently.

"Was he ever violent, or did he ever punish you harshly?" he continued.

"Not really," she said, confused at the direction their conversation had taken.

"Did you ever see any behavior that seemed out of character from him-different from what you were used to?" he asked.

"No...only a couple of times he seemed so distant, like he wasn't really with me," she said. "And a few times, when he didn't know I had come back in the house, he was staring out the window like he was planning something, which gradually changed to a very angry look on his face. But when he became aware that I had come back, it...disappeared," she said, with a kind of confused look on her face, as if it still troubled her and she didn't know why.

How am I going to do this? he questioned himself. Taking a deep breath, he slowly continued on with his questions.

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Jean entered the old, ramshackle house, where his two men nodded at him and then towards the back room. Opening the room's door, he smiled slowly to himself. Good, he thought, his daughter's unwanted suitor would soon be his once again, looking down at the unconscious form of d'Artagnan lying on the floor. He thought to himself, those Musketeers will do anything for each other, even give themselves up for one of their own. He had a double threat going. This is going to be a piece of cake.

Still smiling to himself, Jean left the house.

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Aramis was at his wit's end trying to find a way to lead up to his revelation to Angelique.

He asked her, "Did he ever disappear for any length of time, and not tell you where he was going or what he was doing?"

She thought about it, then said, "No. Wait a minute. Yes, once he went somewhere for several days,and never told me where he was going. He seemed to get upset when I asked him, too, like it was a secret or something I shouldn't know about. Why?"

Aramis took another deep breath, and said, "Angelique, there is something you don't know about your ...", and felt a gun barrel push against his neck.

His whole body froze as he heard Jean's voice, close to his ear, said, "Now, why would you want to be going and telling tales, Musketeer?"


	34. Chapter 34

Jean continued speaking softly in Aramis' ear, as his daughter stared at her father like he had turned into a snake before her eyes.

"You will not be filling my innocent daughter's head with your tall tales, Musketeer," pushing the gun barrel harder against Aramis' neck.

"Do you seriously think you can get away with this in the Musketeers garrison in the middle of Paris?" Aramis asked.

"I do not want to hear any more from you, Musketeer. You and my daughter will be coming with me, and you will do so quietly and without a struggle," Jean said.

"You are deluded, Jean," Aramis replied. "You will never get away with this. You will be shot before...", stopping when Jean switched the pistol's position to the base of his chin, pushing Aramis' head back with its tip.

"I will do precisely as I please, and I will not be stopped. I don't suppose you or your precious Musketeers would care to see your youngest member torn apart by a mastiff, would you?", Jean snarled softly, and then laughed as he felt Aramis stiffen against him.

"What have you done with him, you animal?" Aramis growled.

"Nothing yet but a small bump on his skull, but if I do not return at the appointed time, the rather large, nasty dog guarding him will be given permission to attack. Now, I do not want to hear another word from you, do you understand? I am sure you know by now that my threats are not idle, Musketeer."

Pulling a length of rope from a small bag he carried, Jean threw it to his daughter, saying, "Now, Angelique, I want you to tie his hands together behind his back,and I want them tied tightly. If you do not carry out my wishes, daughter, I can just shoot him here. Is that what you want?"

Angelique, whose tears had silently begun to fall as she listened with horror to her father's words, stood frozen to the spot. Her eyes seeking Aramis' eyes, she said in a faint strained voice, "Aramis?", wanting him to tell her what to do.

Jean was already angry enough, but seeing his daughter ask the Musketeer to tell her what to do upped his ire. "You will not do what anyone else tells you, daughter. I am your father, and you will obey me." Then, he said, "I will count to three,and if you have not begun to carry out my wishes by three, I will carry out my threat. One."

Aramis spoke softly to her. "It's all right, Angelique. Just do as he says, please." The last thing he wanted was for her to be hurt any more.

She slowly took his hands, and began to tie them together, wishing desperately that someone would appear and intervene.

Jean nearly snarled as he said, "I said behind his back. I am not a fool, daughter. Do it or suffer the consequences. Now!"

She hurriedly complied, reluctantly tightening the ropes when her father threatened again.

"I am going to have to teach you the meaning of obedience when we resume our life together, daughter," he said.

Looking around, what amazed Aramis was how deserted the garrison seemed. Where was everyone?

Jean, divining just what Aramis would be thinking, murmured against his ear, "It is amazing what a little ruckus creates in the marketplace at the right time. It worked once earlier in the day, and did so again now. I have been spying on your garrison for quite some time now, so I recognized Captain Treville as he followed your friends to the gate. He may have had some last instructions for them. Who knows? But it worked out very well for me. Your precious captain sent someone back to get the few men present at the garrison to break it up. It did help immensely that your back was to the gate, but you seemed so distracted and wanting to make me look bad in my daughter's eyes to even notice. There is no one present in the garrison now except a couple of stable boys, so we will have no problems leaving."

Aramis stomach dropped when he heard this news.

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D'Artagnan gradually began to regain consciousness, wincing at the pain in his head that increased when he tried to move. But what caused him to lay still again was the menacing growl he could hear from somewhere close by.

Opening his eyes, he saw that he was lying on the wood floor of a small darkened room, with an open door straight ahead of him. Sitting in the doorway to the room was one of the largest dogs he had ever seen, the beast's eyes never wavering from his prone form.

Then, a disembodied voice called out from the room beyond. "As long as you don't try to move, he won't touch you. But if you do, you will not be moving for long, I assure you."

Highly uncomfortable lying face-down with his hands underneath his body, d'Artagnan knew they would be numb if he laid on them much longer. He slowly inched his body to the side. As if to reinforce his captor's threat, the dog growled again when d'Artagnan attempted to move further to turn onto his back. "We did warn you. If you have so little regard for your life, then go ahead, Musketeer."

D'Artagnan's mind was still a bit fuzzy, and he struggled to remember what had happened earlier.

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Jean grabbed Aramis' cloak from the benches at the table, and threw it over the captive Musketeer's shoulders, completely hiding his bound hands.

Then, he gestured with his gun to the gate. "We are leaving now. You two will walk in front of me. The gun will be under my doublet, aimed at both of you. One suspicious move, and one of you will die a very painful death. Now, get going!"

With Jean behind them, Aramis and Angelique walked out of the garrison into the neighborhood street. As they passed people, nothing out of the way was noticed by anyone.

Aramis thought Jean's threats were just that-threats. Jean was using him to force Angelique to come with him, and he was using the threat of harm to both Angelique and d'Artagnan to force him to remain compliant. But once they got where Jean wanted to go, d'Artagnan would be needed no more. As for himself, Jean was too afraid that he would tell Angelique who her real mother was to leave him alive to do so. The man would murder him without a qualm to prevent that from happening. At the moment, Jean held all the cards, and those cards could end up having blood all over them.

Ordinarily, Aramis would have attempted to get away by now. But there were too many ways something could go wrong, and Angelique could be killed. He was also very worried about d'Artagnan, and the threat Jean had made. He had no way of knowing where his brother was, even if he had a way to escape with Angelique. He was well and truly stymied, and unable to do anything. He just hoped and prayed that either Treville returned and found that he was not on the garrison grounds, or that Athos and Porthos returned earlier than a hunt normally would be. He just had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

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As d'Artagnan's head gradually began to throb less, he began to remember what had happened.

He had left the house to try to break up a fight between several men in the morning marketplace. He never saw the blow coming that felled him. Was it a set-up? He didn't recognize the man who had come into the room he was being held in a fewI minutes ago. The man had brought a piece of hard bread, throwing it on the floor. "Your feast is served," he said, before leaving again. Once more, the door was left open, the large, light brown mastiff standing guard.

It had come to him as soon as his head cleared. This had to have been arranged by Jean to get his hands on his daughter.

"Aramis!" he thought, freezing at the thought of the madman possibly also going after him again. Athos and Porthos would be with him, but he needed to warn them the man had hired thugs to help him do his dirty work. Desperately,he began to try to wriggle a hand free from the ropes to free himself and get back to the garrison.

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As they continued to move through the otherwise normal streets, Angelique was still in shock. How had her father turned into the monster he had proven himself to be? First, he had nearly killed Aramis in the most cold-blooded way, and now, he had kidnapped them. She was so afraid for Aramis. Her father seemed to really hate him, and she was so scared that he would try to kill him again. And d'Artagnan. He and Constance had invited her into their home, and now he was at her father's mercy, as well. When was all this going to end?

Glancing over at Aramis,she noticed now that his face was growing pale and a light film of sweat on his brow had appeared. He seemed to be wavering slightly in his walk, as well. He is barely out of a sick bed, she thought. This is probably more exercise than he has had for several weeks,and he is tiring. Moving closer, she took his arm to assist him a little, and he smiled down at her.

But Jean had seen her doing this, and moving swiftly, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her roughly away from Aramis. "You will not lay your hands on him, daughter!"

She said, "But he is not well, Papa. He is barely out of a sick bed. I was just helping him a little."

"He can manage for himself, or I will just shoot him and we will leave him behind. Now, stay away from him and keep moving!"

Very reluctantly moving a couple of steps away to the side, Angelique still kept an eye on Aramis, who was concentrating right now on putting one foot in front of the other, as he grew steadily more dizzy at too much movement too soon in his recuperation.

As they continued to turn corners and move further and further away from the garrison, Aramis' coordination began to desert him further. When they next made their way around a corner, he gave a small cry and leaned his shoulder against a wall, his tenuous hold on consciousness deserting him. Jean tried to shove him away from the wall to get him moving again, but Aramis was barely aware of anything now. He took a step, then another, when his legs went boneless and he crumpled to the ground.


	35. Chapter 35

Aramis very slowly began to wake up with his cheek pressed against a cold,bare floor. Groggy, he didn't at first remember what had happened. As he began to try and move his body, he heard a low growl. Freezing, his heart began racing, his muddled mind associating the growl with wolves. Almost panicking, he tried to twist his hands free, but they were staying stubbornly behind his back.

The growl came again, a menacing sound bringing back the memories of his attack more strongly. Then, he heard a soft voice call out, "Aramis!" When he didn't at first respond, the voice came again, "Aramis!", and he recognized who was calling him.

"D'Artagnan?", he croaked, eyes still closed against the headache he had awakened with. The growl came again,and he struggled once more.

"It's me, Aramis," d'Artagnan replied. "Unfortunately, they've got both of us. Can you open your eyes for me, please?" He was getting a little concerned with Aramis' lack of clarity. "Try not to move. I know the growl is probably causing a slight panic reaction, but it isn't a wolf, Aramis. It's a dog, a huge mastiff."

Aramis' eyes opened at that, glancing around the room to locate the animal. When he finally saw it, the mastiff growled again, but didn't move. His eyes continued to move, finally locating d'Artagnan, in a similiar position to his own on the floor of the small room.

"Aramis," d'Artagnan spoke again. "I was told as long as I didn't move, it wouldn't attack. We are fine as long as we are still."

"Where...are we?" Aramis asked, head still hammering, but at least getting more lucid.

"I have no idea. I was hit on the head during a wild melee in the marketplace that I tried to break up earlier...today, I presume," he stopped, not knowing for sure if it was still the same day,as there were no windows in the dark room.

"Have you seen anyone?" Aramis asked, his head finally clearing.

"No one. Just an occasional voice. I figured this may have been arranged by Jean to get his daughter back."

"Very good thinking, d'Artagnan. That is exactly how we got here. He surprised Angelique and I at the garrison."

"How?" d'Artagnan asked, confused as to how that could even happen.

"Treville got an order from the palace requesting Athos and Porthos to attend the King on an inpromptu hunt today. As they were leaving, I was engrossed with finding a way to tell Angelique about her father, and didn't notice anything else going on. My own fault. The first inkling I had that there was trouble was feeling a pistol against the back of my neck, and Jean's voice in my ear."

"We should have been more alert. Jean is very wily. Treville didn't notice anything?"

"Jean told me he saw Treville walk to the gate to catch Athos and Porthos before they left, probably a last minute instruction or message for the palace. He said Treville sent someone back to get the last of the men still present at the garrison, laughing that I didn't notice because I was too swept up in talking to Angelique. He almost gloated about it," Aramis said, sick at heart that he had been that easily taken. It didn't matter that he was barely up from a sick bed, he felt he should have been more alert, that it was all his own fault.

A cramp ran up his leg and to ease it he moved it a little, as much as the ropes binding his ankles would allow. But as soon as he moved the growl came again, menacing and low. He couldn't help it, a shiver ran down his spine at the sound. He had thought he was over the nightmares, but this was a living nightmare, and he had no wish to be a part of it.

"Aramis, don't move. It does something to trigger the way the dog has been trained."

Just as Aramis was going to reply, the floor creaked, and in walked Jean. Looking down on the two Musketeers, a broad smile broke out on his face.

"Well, this is what I like-a captive audience."

"Where is Angelique, Jean?" Aramis demanded.

"You are in no position to demand answers or anything else from me, Musketeer," Jean replied, his face morphing into a scowl. "You are a dead man walking..." pausing as he thought, "or lying. She will have nothing more to do with you. She is in her rightful place again, with her father."

Aramis knew he was probably going to be sorry, but pushed ahead anyway. "What turned you like this, Jean? This isn't the man Angelique has known all her life as her father. He is a kind, considerate...", getting no further as Jean kicked out at him, catching Aramis in the side and leaving him breathless.

"Leave him alone," d'Artagnan shouted. "You are a madman. You daughter doesn't want anything to do with you, or rather whatever side of you has taken over."

Jean moved over towards d'Artagnan, towering over him. "You will be silent, or you will not even be making the trip with us."

Aramis found his voice again, saying, "She wants nothing to do with you, Jean. Leave us here, and we will make sure no one follows you when you leave."

"She is my daughter, and she will be her old self very soon, Musketeer," Jean replied. "We will be leaving shortly. She will be going home where she belongs, and once there, I will not need your presence to keep her in line. You will no longer be a thorn in my side. I will take care of that myself. I can bury you in the woods where no one will find your grave for a hundred years."

Turning on his heel, he stomped out of the room, leaving two very frustrated and angry Musketeers.

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Athos and Porthos were finally heading back to the garrison. At least, the King had not hunted for the whole day. He had been frustrated with the lack of any game to challenge what he called his "skills", and throwing a tantrum, had headed back to the palace in a huff before the morning was even over.

Athos and Porthos came in the garrison gates, and immediately heard Treville calling them urgently from the landing. Dismounting in a hurry, they rushed up the stairs to his office, a sinking feeling in their stomachs from the look on his face.

Barely entering the office, Treville told them what had happened.

"Aramis is missing," he said.

Stunned, their faces registered the confusion they both felt. "How?" Porthos demanded.

"One of the stableboys saw a man point a pistol at Aramis while he and Angelique were still at the table this morning," Treville replied. "I questioned the boy at length, and from his description, it has to be Jean."

Hearing that man's name, Athos and Porthos froze. It couldn't be. How could he come right into the garrison in broad daylight, and kidnap their brother? But he had!

Both of them were beside themselves with anger, worry, dread. Athos asked the question Porthos was just about to utter. "Where were you and the other men?"

Treville hung his head, saying, "After I gave you the instructions for what to tell Louis when you got to the palace, a boy came to tell me there was a wild melee going on in the marketplace. I brought the few men we have at the garrison with me. We were in such a hurry, as the boy had said there were quite a few people already injured. I could see that Aramis and Angelique were still at the table talking, Aramis with his back to me. I thought the same as you are no doubt thinking now. Who would dare come into the garrison in the middle of Paris in broad daylight. But he did.

It happened about two hours ago. I have had what few men I have available searching, but no one reported anything suspicious-looking anywhere near here. I need you two to begin searching, as well. Aramis is barely up again after nearly dying on us. This cannot be good for him, physically as well as emotionally. To be in the hands of that madman again when he isn't fully well yet, and Angelique as well."

Athos and Porthos could barely contain themselves a moment longer. Tearing out the door, they headed back to their horses, intent on searching all of Paris, if they had to, to find their beloved brother.

Athos wanted to run his sword through Jean's heart for all the hurt and misery he had caused Aramis. Yes, the man obviously had mental problems, but it was no excuse for the agony he had put his brother through, and he would deal with him decisively and with deadly intent when they found them.

Porthos wanted to tear him apart, put him back together and do it all over again, he was so furious. Hadn't Aramis been through enough already without this happening? How dare this man?

They were just riding out the garrison gates, when they saw Constance hurrying towards them, running as quickly as she could in her long skirts. Her eyes alighting on the men she sought, she ran to them.

Out of breath, she paused to recover a moment, before saying, "D'Artagnan is missing!"


	36. Chapter 36

Left alone again, Aramis and d'Artagnan talked in a barely-audible whisper, not wanting Jean or his henchmen to hear them.

"Are you all right, Aramis?" asked d'Artagnan, concern for his brother coloring his words. "You arrived in this room unconscious, and then Jean kicked you. Are you in pain?"

Aramis replied, "I'm fine."

Since d'Artagnan had seen Aramis with a bullet or knife wound before, he didn't necessarily believe his brother now. Aramis always downplayed his injuries to spare his brothers any worry. He also hated not being at full strength to handle whatever situations came up, and he knew from past experience that his brothers would endanger themselves, if need be, to spare him. He didn't want that now.

"Aramis?"

"I will be fine. Have you tried getting out of these ropes yet? If we leave Paris with Jean, it may be very difficult for the others to track us. There are a number of ways Jean could go."

D'Artagnan said, "Whoever tied these knots did too good a job. I haven't been able to get them to budge." Then, he got an idea. "If we could think of something we could drop from time to time, something the others could see, they could still track us. But what?"

Silence reigned in the room as the two Musketeers wracked their brains to think of something suitable that they could actually get their hands on quickly.

"There is a spare supply of bullets for my pistol in my doublet pocket, d'Artagnan. I was going to do some target practice once Angelique and I..." worry for his half-sister caused him to pause. "Do you have any idea where Jean is holding her?"

"No. I have not been out of this room since I arrived. I have no idea how large a building this is, and I have not been able to move enough to try to find out. Not with that dog in the doorway."

Having spoken in just a slightly louder voice, the source of his inactivity made its presence known with another low growl. Aramis, despite knowing what was making the sound, still shivered another time. Angry at himself, he forced the feeling to the back of his mind. He didn't need to be distracted right now.

"We need to retrieve those bullets before Jean gets us out to his farm, preferably before we leave Paris. It may have to happen while we are traveling, though, as that dog watches every movement. Hopefully, our hands and feet won't be totally without feeling by then. These ropes are very tight."

He flexed his fingers, trying to keep them from going numb as long as he possibly could. He couldn't let Angelique stay in Jean's hands. Who knew what would run through his mind next. And once they were at the farm, hidden from the world, Jean would carry out his threats. He needed to be there for her, not lying here helpless on a cold floor.

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Constance, after informing Athos and Porthos of d'Artagnan's disappearance, looked at them with tear-filled eyes. She was so worried for the man she loved. Tears were something very few people ever saw from her, but she couldn't seem to help it right now.

Athos gently told her, "We will find him, Constance. He and Aramis both."

At the mention of Aramis' name, Constance's head shot up, her eyes wide with dawning comprehension.

"Jean has them, doesn't he?"

"Unfortunately, we believe so. Porthos and I are going to search now. You should go to the palace to the Queen right now. You need to be with someone who cares for you, and the Queen always appreciates your presence. It might take your mind off things just a little while, in a situation you cannot control."

Constance would much rather have stayed at the garrison in case there was news, but she heard the wisdom of Athos' suggestion, and slowly nodding, she reluctantly turned around and started to leave.

Stopping, she turned back to them and said, "You will send word as soon as you know something? Please?", her voice dying away as her fear encompassed her, her eyes adding to her plea.

"Of course, Constance. Now go, and we will find them."

Turning around towards the gate, Constance finally left through the garrison gates,her shoulders slumped in her worry. Athos and Porthos watched her go, feeling her pain. She was a very brave woman, and this was not like they had ever seen her before. Their hearts were torn as hers was, not knowing what was happening to their brothers right now.

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Constance entered Anne's rooms without even looking up. She was trying to hold back the tears that kept threatening to engulf her.

Anne took one look at her, and a moment later, her arms were around her friend's shoulders, guiding her to a low ornate bench against the wall.

"What is wrong, Constance?" And knowing her friend, she correctly guessed, "It's d'Artagnan, isn't it?"

Looking into her friend's eyes as she looked up, she read the answer in them. "Oh Constance, what has happened? Has he been injured?"

Constance, her thoughts suddenly sharpening somewhat, realized she couldn't tell her what had happened to d'Artagnan without adding fear to Anne's heart for Aramis. They had that in common, both in love with men they couldn't have, and unable to share it with anyone but each other. Now, they would have the same overwhelming fear smothering their hearts.

She began slowly. "There is something happening that you do not know about, Your Majesty." Just her using her title told Anne just how unsettled Constance was right now. They used first names when no one else was present other than themselves.

"What is wrong, Constance?"

"First, I need to tell you of what happened in the past few weeks, events that have been kept from you. I have not been here, or I would have told you."

This began to give Anne a sense of unease. "It's Aramis, too, isn't it?"

When Constance hesitated, then nodded, Anne felt her heart contract. "Tell me, please, and leave nothing out."

When Constance had finished relating what had happened on their last mission, and Aramis' abduction and near death, Anne's fear for her love was written all over her face.

"No one knows where they are now? This madmen has them?" she asked. At Constance's slow nod, tears began to form in her eyes.

"The Musketeers will find them. I know they will," Anne asserted, being the brave presence she knew Constance needed from her at this time, even though her heart was near to breaking at the uncertainty of what might be happening to her own secret love.

"You will stay here until we have word. We need each other right now. We will hear the news together when they return," not using the word 'if', but with all her heart saying, 'when'. Prayers were already forming and spilling from her mind into her heart that all would turn out well. "Please God," she silently implored. "Don't take the men we love from us."

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Since they could now hear men right near the doorway, Aramis and d'Artagnan fell silent. Aramis' thoughts turned to Anne and their son, wondering if he and d'Artagnan would turn the tables on Jean, and return to the women they loved, even if it had to be in secret.

In his mind and heart, he saw Anne, her glorious golden hair tumbling down around her shoulders at the convent, the soft blue of her dress complimenting her lovely skin and eyes. How he loved her! What he wouldn't give to spend the rest of his life with her and their son, loving each other and watching their son grow together. But it was a hopeless dream, one that had no chance of ever happening.

They had to win free and return to Paris, even if he could only gaze longingly at her and the Dauphin from the safety of the shadows. One way or another, they had to escape. There was no other choice.

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He must have fallen asleep for an unknown period of time. He awakened to a jostling motion. Momentarily confused as the mists of sleep still clung to him, his senses felt scrambled, but then he became aware of the motion of a cart or wagon underneath him. That cleared away the fogginess in a hurry. They were leaving Paris!

He couldn't see anything, and realized that they were covered with something that smelled suspiciously of...horses. Something from a stable then. Cloth had been jammed into his mouth, obviously to keep him from attracting any attention.

D'Artagnan! Was he here as well? Using hands that were almost numb by now, he felt around as far as he could reach with his fingers, praying that his brother was here, as well. He didn't trust Jean to decide not to bring him and dispose of him, possibly permanently.

He breathed a sigh of deep relief when his fingers came into contact with the feel of soft leather. He could feel d'Artagnan's muscles in his arm tense up at the contact. He was probably unable to tell who it was, so Aramis patted his arm awkwardly for reassurance.

Then, it dawned on him. They had been positioned in the cart/wagon back to front, not back to back. Jean obviously didn't want them to be able to reach each other's ropes the other way. But this would enable d'Artagnan to...

Just as he was forming the thought, he felt hesitant fingers patting his doublet. D'Artagnan had formed the same thought, and was searching for the pocket in his doublet with the bullets. Those bullets had been a gift from a grateful comte when he had assisted the man's daughter in getting away from a potential kidnapper. The man had bought them, had them engraved with fleur-de-lys, and presented them to him when he and his brothers had been on palace duty a few months ago. Athos and Porthos would know them instantly if they found them.

A little smile formed in the dark as he remembered that, and a moment later, d'Artagnan's fingers found the pocket and the bullets.


	37. Chapter 37

They had been traveling for quite some time. Aramis and d'Artagnan, shrouded with the horse blanket, couldn't tell if it was day or night by now. Gagged and covered, it was quite warm and stuffy.

D'Artagnan had waited until they went over some ruts in the road before rolling one of the bullets towards the back end of the cart or wagon they were traveling in. He and Aramis almost held their breath, hoping outriders weren't positioned behind the wagon. But no shout, no indication was made that anything had been noticed, and they both breathed a heartfelt sigh that their small signal had reached whatever road they were on without detection by Jean or his men.

They waited a while before chancing sending another bullet rolling, but like the first one, it went unnoticed, as well. They began to have a little flicker of hope kindled that their brothers might be able to find them.

The wagon ground to a halt a short time later, and the blanket was pulled back to reveal Jean's evilly grinning countenance.

"Having a nice ride, boys?", he taunted them. His facing morphing into a scowl, "Get them out!", he ordered his men.

Aramis and d'Artagnan were dragged feet first out of the wagon, heads and shoulders landing heavily on the ground as they were abruptly dropped.

Aramis, his eyes trying to adjust to the last rays of a setting sun, looked around for Angelique. He found her behind her father, her hand held fast in her father's. She looked so scared and helpless, a countenance he had only seen on her face once before, when his life had been threatened. His heart went out to her. This was all a living nightmare for her, her past life shattered in pieces now. Her eyes met his, and shone with her love for him. He couldn't let her down!

"Seems my recalcitrant daughter doesn't want to obey me any more. She is protesting when I tell her to do something. I need to teach her a lesson, then maybe she will listen and be the obedient daughter I raised once again."

Without warning, his fist slammed into Aramis' stomach, knocking the breath from him. He choked as the gag prevented him from fully letting his breath out. D'Artagnan struggled against his bonds, wanting to protect his brother but helpless to do so.

"Stop it, Papa! Don't hurt him. Can't you see he is short of breath from what you did?" Angelique, her face now full of tears in her distress, appealed to her father with hand outstretched.

Jean said to her, "He means nothing to me. He is going to be your schooling, daughter. Each time you do not do as you have been told, the punishment will be worse. Do you understand, Angelique?"

Silence reigned for a long moment, before Angelique bowed her head and nodded.

"Good! Now, get back up on the wagon seat and keep silence. I do not want to hear you. I just want you to be obedient to your loving father."

Signalling to his men, Aramis and d'Artagnan were lifted and roughly deposited back into the back of the wagon, where the blanket was once more pulled over them, concealing them from the world.

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Athos and Porthos held a quick conference before they left on their hunt for their brothers.

Porthos said, "Jean won't leave the most obvious gate out of Paris, the one he'd would normally take to get to his farm, because he'd probably think that's where we would look for him."

Athos agreed, saying, "And he will not leave the opposite direction either. He is wily, and is trying to stay one step ahead of us, and probably will think that might be our idea. We need to check out the Porte Saint-Honore. It is just the right place for him to both leave and not lengthen his journey overmuch."

Porthos studied Athos a moment, then said, "One of your hunches?"

Nodding, Athos replied, "Let us just hope that it will be a correct one, for the sake of our brothers and Angelique."

Mounting, they headed down the busy Parisian streets in the exact direction, unknown yet to them, that Jean had followed.

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Their world once again narrowed to a small space in a wagon, unable to move much or see their surroundings. They did have a chance to get two more of the bullets off the wagon undetected, and Aramis prayed that Athos and Porthos would find them.

He was also working at a small chance of freedom of his own. Feeling around as much as he possibly could with his bound hands, he had discovered an old nail slightly protruding up from the bed of the wagon (thankful they had not landed on that when they were dumped on it), and had begun to saw away at the ropes on his wrists. It was slow going, as only a small part of the nail was exposed, but it was something and he would try his best to get free.

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Athos and Porthos rode through the Porte Saint-Honore, hoping against hope that they might find some indication that their brothers had been brought this way. It was the slimmest of hopes, but they refused to consider that they wouldn't find them.

They hunted among the crowds of people passing in and out of the gate, and the ground underneath their feet, finding nothing. Just as they were both beginning to feel frustration and maybe trying somewhere else, Athos spotted something glinting in the sun off to the left. Dismounting, he walked quickly over to see what it was, picking it up and rolling it around in his hand.

At first, he thought 'what was a bullet doing here', but then he spotted the marking and his heart started to pound as he called Porthos over. Porthos, seeing the look on Athos' face, hoped they had just found something, anything, that could point them in the right direction.

Athos held out the bullet, and when Porthos saw the engraving, the same pounding sensation began in his own heart. They had been this way! They now knew which way Jean was taking to escape Paris!

Hurriedly mounting their horses, they rode down the road looking for more of the "trail" their brothers had left for them to follow.

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Feeling the wagon make a sharp right turn, Aramis paused for a moment in his efforts to get through the ropes. Where is Jean going? he silently asked himself. He and his brothers knew these roads well, constantly galloping down them on one mission or another. This was a detour of some kind. Jean wasn't going to his farm, he realized, as that is the first place the Musketeers would look. He and d'Artagnan could end up somewhere else entirely! With that thought, Aramis resumed his efforts with even more determination and a slight feeling of fear now, something his confidence rarely allowed to affect him. He had just been through too much in a completely helpless condition, and he refused to let it happen again.

Ignoring the ache in his ribcage from the punch Jean threw him, Aramis sawed away at the ropes furiously, feeling and resolutely ignoring the stickiness of the blood dripping over his hand from his efforts. It was very slow going, but he worked at it determined to get through them before they reached their destination.

Just as the wagon hit a particularly nasty rut in the road, he finally felt the rope snap.


	38. Chapter 38

Pulling the nasty-tasting,sweaty cloth from his mouth, Aramis flung it away from him, before untying his ankles, again a slow process as his hands were still rather numb from the tightness of the ropes. Then, he reached over and began untying d'Artagnan. When they were both finally free, they collectively heaved a silent sigh of relief.

Now, to get out of the wagon without being observed, Aramis thought to himself. Moving as silently as possible, he pulled up the blanket towards the back of the wagon, and looked out. No men were behind the conveyance, which was a very good thing for them. The road was empty for as far as he could see.

Just as he turned to let d'Artagnan know, the wagon went over another large, nasty rut, but this time, they could feel the vehicle beginning to tip dangerously to the side. Throwing caution to the wind, they both threw the blanket off and jumped. Looking back, they saw the wagon rolling rapidly towards the edge of the road, where it looked like there might be a steep drop.

Deciding to take off in the opposite direction as fast as their half-numb legs would take them, they looked back when they heard a cracking sound. The wagon had gone over the edge of the road, and they could hear crashing sounds as it hit the side of whatever precipice it was now tumbling down. But they didn't know if any of their kidnappers had made it off the wagon before it began its descent, so it behooved them to move as fast as possible to get away in case they had.

Aramis' feet and legs were beginning to have strong tingling sensations as the blood began to flow through them again. He knew d'Artagnan had to be feeling them, too. But they needed to keep moving,regardless of the discomfort.

Aramis' thoughts were with Angelique as he ran. Did she survive the accident? Was she injured? And did Jean make it out alive, or his men? Troubling questions, with no answers yet. He would just as soon not find out they were alive by getting a bullet in the back, so he kept forcing himself forward down the road.

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Just when they thought they could run no further, they froze at the sounds of horses coming towards them. Since it was coming from the direction they had already traveled while in the cart, it could just be some travelers along the road. But Aramis and d'Artagnan had learned the hard way not to trust in good fortune right now, so they moved off the side of the road, and crouched down in the abundant brush lining it.

When the riders came into view, however, Aramis and d'Artagnan could have cried for joy. Leaping to their feet, they emerged from the brush with smiles as Athos and Porthos returned the joy they saw in their faces.

The smiles disappeared, though, and they both leaped from their horses in a rush when they saw the exhaustion on Aramis and d'Artagnan's faces. Their steps had faltered as the adrenalin that had been carrying them suddenly wore off. Athos and Porthos reached them just as the two exhausted Musketeers' legs crumpled from weariness, Porthos grabbing Aramis and Athos doing the same for d'Artagnan. They gently lowered them to the ground, crouching down beside their newly-found brothers.

Aramis was the first to speak. "Keep an eye out...for Jean and his don't...know what became of them. Their wagon overturned and tumbled down...an embankment of some kind. We didn't stay to find out...any more, but just ran." He ran out of breath, his speech petering out towards the end of his explanation.

Then, d'Artagnan took up the tale. "They had us...tied in the back of a wagon. Aramis had some bullets given him... for a favor, and we started dropping them, hoping... you would find them. It...looks like it worked," he said with a grin at his brothers. "We didn't stop...to see what happened to Jean and his men, but just ran."

Aramis, his brief breather giving him the ability to carry on, said, "We don't know what happened to Angelique, either," his face drawn and anxious as he told them.

Athos and Porthos, seeing the shape their brothers were in, shushed them, wanting them to get some of their breath and energy back, even though Aramis insisted he was just fine. Athos' eyebrow lifted as he looked at him, saying, "Aramis, you and d'Artagnan are anything but fine. Please humor us and just rest for a while."

They knew they couldn't stay very long, as Jean and his men could very well have either jumped before the wagon ditched over the embankment, or climbed back up the hill again, and they knew Aramis and d'Artagnan weren't yet in any shape to be fighting.

After letting them rest for a brief time, Athos and Porthos assisted their brothers to their feet and over to their horses. The two extra horses brought with the hope that their brothers would be riding back with them would be brought along riderless, as neither Musketeer looked like they would stay awake in the saddle to ride them themselves. Athos took d'Artagnan up before him in the saddle, Porthos doing the same for Aramis. Both leaned their heads back against their brothers' shoulders, still extremely tired.

But just as they turned their horses around, they heard a movement behind them, and a soft cry. Aramis, recognizing the voice, opened his eyes, searching for the source. Dragging herself forward, her leg obviously injured, came Angelique. Her dress was torn and dirty, her hair a tangled mess, but he thought the sight of her was a dream come true.

Sliding down from the horse, he went to her and wrapped his arms around her, overcome with emotion that she had survived. Angelique laid her head on his shoulder and wept with relief.

Athos said, "We need to leave as soon as possible. If you have survived, chances are rather good that your father and his men did, as well. We should put as much distance as possible between us quickly."

Since d'Artagnan was in the better shape of the rescued Musketeers he volunteered to ride his own horse, and Angelique was taken up before Athos in his saddle. Then, they turned once more and galloped down the road towards Paris. Since it was so late in the day and their brothers weren't in any shape to be riding great distances yet, Athos knew they would need to stop somewhere for the night, somewhere sheltered and hopefully as hidden as possible from possible pursuers.

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Back where the wagon had been torn to pieces by its slide downhill, movement began, first to the left of the wreck and then at the base of the embankment. Jean sat up dazedly, looking around for a moment before realizing what had happened. Dragging himself to his feet, he called to his men. Two of them responded, but faintly and as if they had just awakened as he had.

Still moving slowly, he made his way to the wagon, wondering what shape his daughter and his captives were in. Were any of them even alive? He didn't much care whether the Musketeers had made it, as his plan had been to kill them when he reached his destination. But where was Angelique? She belonged to him, at his side.

Looking in the wagon, his frown deepened when he realized that neither Musketeer was there. He grew angry when he saw the frayed ropes, and realized his captives had got away. He looked around. He saw no sign of them anywhere around the wreckage, meaning they had freed themselves at some point before the accident.

Well, they couldn't have gone far in their condition, he thought confidently. We will hunt them down and make them sorry they tried to escape.

But where was Angelique? There was no sign of his golden-haired daughter. Had she managed to climb the embankment? He would find her, too.

Yelling at his men to follow, they dragged themselves up the embankment and began to look for any signs of a trail. He would finish the work he had set out to do, one way or the other.


	39. Chapter 39

The Musketeers galloped on for a couple of hours before Athos called a halt for the night. He could see Aramis, d'Artagnan and Angelique's heads drooping, and didn't want to risk their falling asleep and out of the saddle. He had spotted a secluded area with a hillside behind it, which would both give them shelter and protect them from the back, should Jean and his men come after them.

Aramis and Angelique had both been asleep almost as soon as they had ridden away. D'Artagnan, who was also beyond tired, slowly dismounted, coming over to assist Angelique down from Athos' arms. They carried her over to a spot right up against the beginnings of the hillside, and laid her gently down. She never even woke up.

Athos and d'Artagnan hurried back to Porthos, lifting Aramis down. Stirring, he mumbled, "Fine," which made all three of them exchange a grin. Even almost unconscious in sleep, he was trying to reassure them (and himself? they wondered). Laying him down a short distance away from Angelique, they set about making camp for the night.

D'Artagnan, tired as he was, still wanted to take first watch. Athos put an end to that suggestion, saying quietly but firmly, "D'Artagnan, did you not just come through a rather traumatic event? Did you not nearly fall off your horse twice in the past two hours from lack of sleep and the remnants of a head injury?"

D'Artagnan had the grace at these words to hang his head in defeat. Grabbing his bedroll, he moved over a short distance from Aramis. Laying down, he was asleep in less than a minute. Athos and Porthos just looked at each other and smiled. It was so good to have their brothers back again. Then,Porthos moved to the perimeter of the camp to take up the first watch.

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Athos brought Aramis' medical bag over to his brother, and quickly and thoroughly checked him out as unobtrusively as he could. He knew Aramis, and he also, unfortunately, knew how Jean felt about Aramis. He had to see for himself just how "fine" his friend was.

As gently as possible, not wanting to wake his exhausted brother, he lifted his shirt up halfway, hissing to himself when he saw his chest. There were two nasty-looking bruises across his abdomen. Examining them, he breathed a sigh of relief that there appeared to be no broken or cracked ribs. They had to be painful, but were not serious. The almost-healed bullet wound was doing fine, no stitches having been broken, and no signs of redness or infection. Removing Aramis' boot and sock, he have another sigh of relief as he saw that it also hadn't had any broken stitching or infection. He used some of Aramis' ointments on the bruises, changed the dressings on the healing wounds, and started to get up.

Thinking about it, he squatted back down, and softly pulled each of Aramis' sleeves up. Just as he suspected. The skin of both wrists were raw and torn, both from being bound very tightly and from Aramis' attempts to get free. Getting the ointment out once again, he applied a generous amount onto the abused skin, and gently rubbed it in, then bandaged them before pulling the sleeves down again.

Cupping Aramis' face gently, he thought about how grateful he was that they had their beloved brother back in one piece. It could have turned out so tragically. Once he got enough rest, which wouldn't happen until they got back to Paris, Aramis' healing process would continue, whether he wanted to take it easy or not, he mused to himself with a small smile. Aramis was never an easy patient, no matter how much he insisted on his own patients following his orders to rest.

Moving on to d'Artagnan, he felt the bump on the back of his head, and concluded that it could have been way worse. He would still probably have a slight headache for a couple of days, but nothing worse. His wrists were not in good shape either, so he also applied the ointment and bandaged them. It was while he was doing so that d'Artagnan's eyes opened. Smiling at him, Athos deadpanned, "You will live," to which d'Artagnan gave a sleepy grin before falling asleep again.

Angelique was awake once again by the time he got to her. He examined her, and found to his relief that aside from a twisted ankle, she seemed fine. Her father's violence had not been extended directly to her.

Her eyes opened and widened, thinking something was wrong. He reassured her, saying, "I am just checking the walking wounded, Angelique."

Her eyes immediately sought out Aramis, and she looked back up at Athos with a questioning gaze.

"He will be fine. He is beyond exhausted, but his bullet wound is almost completely healed, and the wolf bite. No stitches were broken, no infection. The bruises on his chest," here he noticed her change of expression," caused no lasting damage-no broken or cracked ribs."

Rightly guessing, he said softly, "They were caused by your father's fists, were they not?"

She looked down with an expression of shame.

"Angelique, you are not responsible for what your father has done. Aramis would be the first to tell you that. You are one of his innocent victims, like Aramis and d'Artagnan."

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, then over once again to Aramis' sleeping form.

"Would you like to sit with him for a while?" Athos asked, smiling when her eyes at once lit up, and she nodded her head.

He assisted her up, and escorted her over to Aramis where she sat down beside him, reaching for one of his hands to caress in hers. Athos could plainly see how in love with him she was, and his heart was saddened for her impossible feelings.

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Angelique sat quietly beside Aramis for some time, holding his hand. She was so glad that he and d'Artagnan were safe again. She herself was quite relieved to be away from her father, even though it still hurt that she had to feel that way about him. He had to be quite sick to have done what he did. It was almost as if he had turned into someone else, and her father was dead. She reprimanded herself for thinking of her much-loved father as dead, but how did she make sense of everything that had happened?

She loved this man whose hand she held so very much. She had never cared for a man before in this way. Her father had always kept her so secluded. She had never questioned why before, but did it have a connection to the disappearance of the father she had known? She might never know now.

Gazing down at Aramis' face, she finally gave in to the sensations she was feeling and bending over, kissed him. It was a feeling like nothing she had ever experienced before. Her heart sang as she deepened the kiss, hardly daring to hope it might be returned by an awakening Aramis. Her need to touch and be touched enkindled a fire inside of her that she had never before felt.

Aramis gradually awoke, confused when he felt lips on his. Opening his eyes, he stared up at Angelique in shock as she stopped her kiss and leaned back a little, her eyes never leaving his, and a little smile breaking out on her face to see that he was awake.

Aramis was suddenly wide awake, realizing what had happened. The time had come. There was no putting off now the talk he had for so long needed to have with her.

Wincing as he lifted himself with both hands to a sitting position, Aramis, out of the corner of his eye saw Athos begin to get up, and shook his head to stop him. This talk needed to happen before Angelique was hurt any further. Athos settled back against his saddle, deciding not to interfere.

Before Aramis could say anything, Angelique spoke breathlessly, her words tumbling out as fast as she could say them. "I love you, Aramis! We can live the rest of...", stopping when Aramis laid his hand gently on her arm and shook his head.

"But..."

"Angelique, I am so sorry I haven't had the heart to speak with you about this before now, but I need to tell you something very important."

Angelique could see that something was deeply troubling Aramis. What could he have to tell her that could upset him this badly?

"It's all right, Aramis. We can face anything if we are together."

Aramis was still hesitant, but finally began. "Angelique, it would be very wrong of us to be together in the way you wish."

Confused anew by his words, Angelique said, "Why? How could it be wrong if we love each other? I don't understand."

This was every bit as hard as he had imagined, but Aramis swallowed and went forward.

"That can never happen, Angelique. I love you very much, but not in the way in which you want. It would be very wrong, a sin."

As the tears began to fall, Angelique looked so hurt all Aramis wanted to do was gather her into her arms and comfort her. But he stopped himself.

Again, she asked, "Why? It is not wrong for two people to love each other."

Then, he at last said the fateful words, "In this case, it would. Angelique," he hesitated another moment, then, "you are my sister."


	40. Chapter 40

Anne had been on edge all day. Not knowing what had happened to Aramis was an ache in her heart that wouldn't go away. Going into the Dauphin's room, she dismissed his wet nurse and scooped him up in her arms. She needed to be with some part of Aramis in the midst of her fears and worry.

Sitting down with him and laying her cheek against hers, she tried to calm herself. The Musketeers would find him. They had to! The world was a difficult enough place for her: Louis' neglect; Milady constantly flaunting herself with the King in front of her, Rochefort's creepiness; her attendants spying on her every move, and gossiping about her "like fishwives". Her only confidant, Constance-bless her, needing to put in appearances from time to time with her husband to allay his jealousy. At least, she could be with her little one, a secret connection to the man she loved with all her heart.

Prayer was always a solace to her, and she began to silently speak, saying, "Please, protect him. You know that I love him. I don't know what I would do if the unthinkable happened, and he was lost to me. My heart would die inside. Please, let the Musketeers find him. Please," she sobbed, as she cuddled her little Louis close to her.

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Constance had not wanted to deal with her husband in the state of fear she was in. She didn't dare let on about her feelings, or he would go into a rage with her.

Entering the house, she immediately was confronted by him, asking her what was going on. Thinking quickly, she said, "The Dauphin is sick. Her Majesty needs me. I came to tell you I won't be able to come by for a while, until Her Majesty's situation calms down (hoping he wouldn't ask what the "situation" was)."

Bonacieux squinted his eyes at her, trying to figure out if this was the truth. He knew she loved that Musketeer, and he didn't want any sneaking around with him while she was at the palace.

Constance knew what he was thinking. She said, "He isn't at the palace, or even in Paris right now. He is on a mission with his brothers. You have nothing to fear. I am with the Queen as her companion, not deceiving or cheating on you. You can come to the palace and see."

This seemed to satisfy him, for he asked her no more questions. He was not happy, though. He had thought, when they had been summoned to the palace, that his star was fially rising, that it was him they wanted to see. But insteead, Her Majesty wanted his wife, not him. He fawned all over Her Majesty, but the situation had been, and continued to be humiliating to him. His wife belonged by his side, not galavanting among the courtiers at the palace. Soon, he would insist that she come back and take up her rightful place at his side and in his home again, queen or no queen.

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Aramis could tell by the stricken look on her face that Angelique's heart was broken. The last thing in the world he had wanted to do was hurt her, but there was no way to go on without telling her. She wanted something he couldn't give her.

He held her against his chest as she cried. When at last she calmed a little, he said, "I am so sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, Angelique. I would never want to hurt you like this."

She slowly looked up at him, studying his face. Then, she said, "This is why my father keeps trying to kill you, isn't it? He didn't want me to know, did he?"

Nodding, he replied, "Angelique, your father is a very sick man-in here," tapping his forehead. "I have learned from a very learned physician that sometimes a person can develop two personalities. Sometimes, one of the personalities can take over. I believe this is what happened to your father. The loving parent you grew up with was a gentle, hard-working man. This other facet is the opposite. Medicine doesn't know enough to say why this can happen, and I don't know if your father will reappear someday or not."

She was silent for a while, then looked up at him again, saying in a voice barely above a whisper," Will you tell me about...about our mother, please?"

"She was a very beautiful person, Angelique, on the inside as well as the outside. I do have to tell you something about her, though. Most people would frown on her life. They wouldn't understand why she had to live the way she did." He was silent for a moment, looking, not at her, but down at the ground. Then, raising his head again, he spoke softly. "Angelique, she lived in a house where ...where men...", not knowing how to tell an innocent girl the life their mother had lived. He never knew why she lived that life, but because he knew the woman, the mother she was, he knew she had to have had a very good reason for it. He had been too young at the time to think about it, and then he had been taken away by his father and hadn't ever seen her again. She was dead now, so he wouldn't never know.

"Did she sleep with men?" Angelique asked, shocking Aramis very much. How did she know about things such as that. He had seen how sheltered her life had been.

"How...", he started. She stopped him with a gentle, upraised hand.

"I led a sheltered life, but Papa sometimes had men he did business with stay at our house overnight. Not often, but I did hear Papa talking with them when they thought I was asleep in the other room."

"This is hard for me to talk about with you, Angelique. But when your father's other self held me captive, he bragged about how his father would take him to Paris sometimes on business trips, and go to one of these places. Your father gloated that when he was an adult, he would go to the same place, because he could do to the girls there what the girls in your village would not let him do. He seemed proud of it. He said when our mother became pregnant, he paid to be able to take you home with him. Our mother was never able to see you grow up, to know you as the beautiful young woman you are. But I am sure she wondered how you were. Women in our mother's position had no rights. The person in charge of the house could do what they liked with them, their property, or any babies born to them. She must have been heartbroken to lose you, Angelique."

He grew silent for a few moments, then in a voice barely audible, he asked, "I have no right to ask this of you, Angelique, but could you find it in your heart to forgive me for not telling you sooner, and having to tell you now?"

Instead of speaking, Angelique threw her arms around Aramis' shoulders and hugged him. "I do love you, Aramis. But now, I will learn to love you as my brother. You are such a kind, brave and honest man. I am proud to have you as my brother."

Aramis hadn't expected this from Angelique, and was very moved by the maturity she was showing. He was also very proud that she was his sister. Glancing over at Athos, he saw the telltale eyebrow moving upwards and a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth that things had turned out so much better than they had all believed it would.

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Treville decided to wait no longer. He had been patient, hoping that Athos and Porthos would find word of Aramis and d'Artagnan, but it had been too long. He should have gone with them in the first place.

Ordering four of his men to saddle up, Treville headed back to his office to get ready to leave. He cared very deeply for his Inseparables, and if they had run into any more trouble, he would find them and put an end to this "Jean" once and for all.

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Jean and his men had picked up the Musketeers trail without a lot of trouble, and followed it for miles. He could tell that they were heading in the general direction of Paris and that they were attempting to make the trail difficult to follow, but he had not been a highly skilled army scout for years for nothing.

When it was beginning to turn to dusk, he raised a hand, saying, "Well, look here! Our poor, former captives must have petered out. Their friends turned off the road early to give them some rest, I'll bet. Spread out and find their camp. We have some Musketeers to kill. They won't even know we are coming until it is too late."


	41. Chapter 41

Aramis and Angelique both were exhausted by the time they ended their conversation. Angelique fell asleep in Aramis' arms, and Athos settled a blanket over both of them, relieved that the secret was finally out in the open. He knew how badly it had been affecting Aramis carrying around the secret for so long.

It seemed like such a peaceful setting, and a quiet night. He was grateful they were finally reunited again, and headed back to Paris in the morning. His eyelids started to drift down. Opening them again, he didn't know where the prickly sensation was coming from that wouldn't let him sleep.

He had settled down and was almost asleep when Porthos shouted, "Riders coming!" Having kept his weapons on him, he drew them now, seeing Aramis and d'Artagnan do the same. They stood facing the three unprotected sides, with Angelique in the middle to protect her. The hillside would protect them from the back.

Moments later, riders burst out of the trees, Jean at their head with a wicked snarl on his face. He and his men quickly leaped from their horses, drawing their swords. The Musketeers met them head-on.

Athos engaged Jean, as he wanted no part of the man coming near Aramis again. They fought furiously, and in back of him as he fought, Athos could hear his brothers engaged in just the same all-out fight.

Porthos was fighting fiercely against a mountain of a man, as big as the Musketeer himself. Even though he was better with a pistol and his fists than a sword, he was still driving his opponent back.

D'Artagnan had a wiry little man drawing all his attention. So far, the man had kept up with all d'Artagnan's moves, and d'Artagnan was getting a little frustrated with him. Neither one had touched the other yet.

Athos was not surprised that Jean was a dirty fighter, using any trick he could to win the fight. The man had already tried to throw dirt in his face to blind him, but that was an old trick that Athos avoided easily. The man also tried to kick a stone up from the ground to distract him, but that didn't work either. But he wasn't prepared for what happened. Jean suddenly switched his focus to Angelique, making a move towards her. When Athos moved back to protect her, he didn't see the branch under his feet until he had tripped over it as he backed up. Jean's sword sliced deep into his shoulder, the man's wicked grin appearing as Athos fell to the ground.

Jean moved again, heading this time for Aramis, who had his back to him, fighting as best he could against his opponent. He had finally disarmed him, when he heard Athos shout, "Aramis, behind you!"

He turned and saw Jean striding towards him, murder in his eye. Starting to lift his sword once more, he stopped when he saw Jean lifting his pistol and aiming it right at his head and froze.

"Drop your swords, Musketeers," Jean called out to Porthos and d'Artagnan, who, when seeing Jean with a pistol aimed at their brother's head, hurriedly complied with Jean's command.

"Thought you and your friends were going to make it back to Paris?" Jean taunted. "We have unfinished business right here, Musketeer. Angelique, get over here by me."

Angelique stayed where she was. She didn't want to be anywhere near this man who looked like her father.

He commanded her again, and her response was the same.

"Fine. But when we leave here, you are coming, and you are going to learn the obedience that I have seen sorely lacking in you, daughter."

"What happened to my father? Where did you come from?", she asked him, staring at him.

"Why, he is right here with me," Jean said, thumping his chest with a nasty smile. "He always was such a meek man. He was no match for me when I decided it was time to take over. He never knew what was happening in his mind. He never stood a chance. I am a much stronger person than he ever was. It was so easy."

Jean obviously liked talking about himself and bragging to his captive audience. Speaking to Aramis once again, he said, "You have given me much to much trouble. Did you finally tell my dear daughter about her sordid past? Was she shocked?"

Angelique spoke up boldly again. "Yes, my brother told me who my mother was. I am not ashamed of what she was. He told me that his mother told him how much she loved me. I am very happy to have such a wonderful broth..."

Jean cut her off with an oath, not expecting her to praise Aramis after she found out her past. "Your brother is about to leave this earth in a most painful manner. You and I," indicating Angelique, "will have a long re-education before us, it seems. You show no loyalty to the man who is your father now, but you will learn."

Athos, listening horrified to the ranting of the man before him, was feeling around as unobtrusively as he could for his pistol. He didn't want to draw the attention of any of Jean's men, so it was slow-going, his wounded shoulder protesting violently the movements he was forcing it to undergo. He ignored the sensation, his only thought now to put a stop to this before it ended in tragedy.

"This has been a nice reunion, daughter, but we need to finish our business and get back home. I am going to take care of your brother and his loyal friends, so we will have no one trailing us and interfering with my business any more."

With another evil smile, he slowly pulled the hammer back of the pistol he had aimed at Aramis' head, saying, "Goodbye, Musketeer!"

As he pulled the trigger, Angelique suddenly moved, screaming, "No!", and throwing her body in front of Aramis as the pistol went off. With a sharp cry, she twisted in mid-air and landed in a crumpled heap at Aramis' feet.

A second later, another shot rang out and Jean's whole body jerked from the impact. His face wore a look of complete shock and pain as he slowly turned around to see who had got him. Athos, still laying on the ground, his arm covered with blood, was holding a smoking pistol in his hand. Jean, without another word, dropped to the ground and was finally still.

With the threat to his life no longer present, Aramis limped his way to Angelique's side, dropping to her side and gathering her up in his arms. Looking up at his brothers,his face devastated, as the silent tears began to fall.


	42. Chapter 42

He had just been getting to know her openly as his sister. How could this happen? Aramis was rocking back and forth, the pain of his loss growing ever more deeply. She had saved his life at the cost of her own, when he would willingly have given his to save them all. His eyes closed, he struggled to understand his loss.

Porthos and d'Artagnan flew across the camp to their brothers' sides, Porthos to Aramis, d'Artagnan to Athos. Jean's hired men had taken off once the man who had been paying them was killed.

Porthos knelt next to Aramis and Angelique, his heart aching for his friend's loss. He laid a gentle hand on Aramis' shoulder in sympathy, knowing how much he loved Angelique. Aramis barely noticed what he was saying, his eyes closed as he grieved his sister's death. Porthos said, "I am so so...," but stopped, something having caught his eye. Looking more closely, he said softly to Aramis, "You haven't lost her, my friend."

He obviously didn't get through to his grieving friend the first time, so he tried again. "Aramis, you haven't lost her. She isn't dead. Look!"

Aramis, his senses befuddled by what had happened, finally heard Porthos. Startled, he looked closer, and his heart began to thump wildly when he saw Angelique's eyelids trying to open.

"Angelique, can you hear me?" he said softly. Finally, she was able to open her eyes, looking up at the brother she had just nearly lost. A small smile formed, but then her face grimaced in pain.

Aramis searched for the wound, finding the telltale blood on her left shoulder. He knew he had to check and see if the bullet had exited the other side, but he didn't want to cause her more pain. But if the bullet was still in there, they would have to remove it as soon as possible, so he said to her, "I'm sorry. I have to check and make sure the bullet passed through. I will try to be as quick and gentle as I can," cupping her cheek lightly in reassurance.

He and Porthos moved her up and checked, before heaving great sighs of relief that the bullet had indeed passed through. Porthos went and got Aramis' medic bag, and Aramis quickly cleaned and bandaged the wound. He worked as gently as he could, but Angelique was out with a soft cry very soon after he began. The sound tore at his heart that he had to cause her pain, but at the same time he realized she wouldn't be awake for the rest of what he had to do.

Covering her with a blanket, Aramis settled down with her hand in his, determined to stay with her through the night. He thought, I came so close to losing her, and I had been so happy to know I had a sister. Stroking her hair, he gazed fondly at her, hoping she could sleep the night through. The more rest she could get, the quicker her recovery could be. But d'Artagnan called to him urgently, "Aramis, please, Athos needs you!"

Porthos assisted Aramis to his feet, the medic now starting to show the effects of exhaustion from everything that had happened in the past few days again. Porthos told him, "I will stay with Angelique while you tend to Athos," and Aramis nodded and moved across the camp to his brother.

D'Artagnan had straightened Athos' body out and laid his head on a saddle. He was trying to clean the wound when Aramis reached him. "Let me see," Aramis said, and d'Artagnan moved over a bit for him.

Just as Aramis was about to examine Athos' wound, the thunder of horses' hooves approaching got all their attention. After the time they had just gone through, they all reached for their weapons, leveling them in the direction the approaching riders were coming from.

But when the riders appeared, they all dropped their weapons, with sighs of relief and broad smiles.

"Captain," said Porthos, "you are a sight for sore eyes!"

Treville and his men dismounted and the others noticed immediately the extra men with them, all with their hands bound and heads bowed.

"You caught Jean's recruits!", d'Artagnan whooped.

Treville came striding over to where Athos was lying on the ground with Aramis once again bent over him examining the wound in his arm. "How is he...and how are you?" Treville asked.

Without even glancing upward as he worked Aramis replied, "I need to get the bullet out of him...now. Captain, would you and d'Artagnan hold him still, please? This is going to be painful if he wakes up while I am working. I don't want him moving."

Treville and d'Artagnan positioned themselves, Treville holding Athos' shoulders still, while d'Artagnan immobilized his lower body. Aramis moved as quickly as possible to get it over with, hoping against hope that Athos wouldn't awaken until long afterwards. But just as he got hold of the bullet, Athos' body shot up and he screamed with the pain. Treville and d'Artagnan, experienced as they were with field medicine assistance, didn't let his body move.

Aramis pulled the bullet out with a sigh, as Athos' face still twisted in pain. "It's over, Athos. We got the bullet out. You will be fine, my friend," Aramis murmured to him. Athos stared up at him, then his countenance relaxed and his eyes shut, finally giving in to the peace of sleep.

Aramis wiped his hand across his eyes as he, too, began to feel the tug of exhaustion more strongly claiming his mind and body. Wiping his hands free of his brother's blood with a dry cloth, he started to stand up. He got about halfway to his feet, when his body just gently collapsed, Treville catching him before he hit the ground. Easing him down beside Athos, he thought to himself how blessed they were that none of his best Musketeers had lost their lives on this ill-fated mission.


	43. Chapter 43

Here is the new chapter. I have to apologize for the giant "goof" I made in the previous chapter. Jean had wounded Athos with his sword while they were fighting, but in the last chapter I had him with a bullet wound! I can only say for my defense that last week was very traumatic for me from more than one direction, and things were just tearing at my heart overwhelmingly. I will just leave it being a gunshot wound from one of Jean's men from behind, and promise not to do something so goofy again!

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"Aramis! Aramis!" the voice urged him. "Can you wake up for us?"

He knew that voice. It was Porthos. But Aramis tried to roll over and go back to sleep, exhaustion still claiming his body and mind yet. But Porthos was persistent.

"You going to check on Athos and Angelique before we leave for Paris, or did you want me to play medic?"

That woke him right up. Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, he slowly sat up, immediately locating Angelique and Athos, who had been laid side by side, covered by a mound of blankets each.

Getting up and moving over to them, his mind gradually coming fully awake, he checked both of them over, and was satisfied that neither had any signs of infection that could hinder their recoveries. Heaving a relieved sigh, he then felt a hand on his shoulder.

Turning, he found Treville to his left, a questioning look in his eyes.

"They will both be fine, Captain," Aramis answered Treville's unspoken query.

"Can they be moved yet? We need to get back to Paris," Treville said.

"I think so. As long as we don't push the pace too much, we should be able to leave. Porthos can take Athos, and Angelique can ride with me," looking at Treville as if he thought he might object.

"You seem to be doing all right, just very tired yet, so that should work out. We leave in one hour," Treville answered. Squeezing the hand he still had placed on Aramis' shoulder, he softly said, "I am very pleased that you have come through in one piece from all that Jean put you through," then rose, and gave orders to break up camp and ready the horses.

D'Artagnan came over to Aramis, squatted down and looking him in the eye, asked, "Are you sure you are feeling well, Aramis? I can take Angelique up before me in the saddle."

Aramis shook his head, saying, "I am just very tired, but I would be tired no matter if I was riding or not, and having Angelique riding with me does not pose any extra imposition for me."

As d'Artagnan rose to leave, Aramis said, "But thank you for your offer," with a smile for his brother.

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Riding at a somewhat unusually slow pace for them, the Musketeers were finally entering the garrison gates. Aramis would never admit it to the others, but he was almost dreaming of his bed.

Smiling down at the sleeping blond head in front of him, he thanked God again that she had survived. He knew he already loved his "little" sister, and wanted to get to know her much better. He had already decided to ask Constance if she and d'Artagnan could keep an eye on her if she stayed there again.

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The following few days found Athos and Angelique steadily returning to health, Athos in the infirmary, where he insisted he didn't need to be, and Angelique back in the room at the Bonacieux house, with d'Artagnan and Constance taking care of her. Aramis seemed full of energy, too, finally getting more than enough sleep. He insisted on being the one to take care of Athos and the others just gave in, knowing how persistent he could be with his medic duties. They also knew he would worry himself into lack of sleep again if he wasn't allowed to take care of him.

Sitting at Athos' side, Aramis tsk-tsked when Athos again complained that he didn't need to be in the infirmary, insisting on going back to his own room. "You are as bad as I am when you aren't well, my friend. Give it another day,and then you can return to your room."

Athos rolled his eyes and the eyebrow lifted at Aramis' words, but he didn't complain, knowing full well that Aramis could easily add another day or two to his "incarceration".

Once they were all up on their feet again, Aramis couldn't contain his joy. Angelique had come to join them sitting in the sun. Sitting at 'their' table in the compound, he had an idea.

"Why don't we all take a walk to Madame Certeau's establishment for some sweets?" he asked them.

No one could think of a good reason not to go, so off they went, exhuberant with the return of their health and with the beautiful day of sunshine.

They could smell the mouth-watering aromas before they even reached their destination. Madame Certeau greeted them at the door.

"What can I get for you gentlemen," then noticing Angelique, said, "and Mademoiselle?"

Entering the shop, the sights that greeted their eyes matched the aromas surrounding them. Sighing, they began to deliberate on which sweet they each wanted.

Madame Certeau was curious about Angelique. The Musketeers had been in her establishment many times, but never with the lovely young woman who accompanied them this time.

While The Musketeers decided on their selections, Madame Certeau talked with Angelique about her business.

"It's a very hard time. I have so many orders, and many people, like yourselves, walk in to buy. The girl who was my assistant just got married, and now I have all the business to attend to by myself."

Angelique said, "I used to love to make sweets for my papa. He always told me my food was the best he had ever tasted, even the food he had on his business trips to Paris."

Madame Certeau's eyes lit up at this. "Would you be interested in working for me, Angelique? I really could use your help,and I would pay a good wage, too. You could live in the spare room above the shop. I have several rooms up there. What do you say?"

Aramis had come in on the tail end of the conversation, and was elated that Angelique had been offered both a job and a place to live. He hadn't wanted her to go back to the farm alone. That was no life for a woman, and it wouldn't have been safe enough either,especially considering how pretty she was. There were too many unsavory characters who could come passing through on the road at the edge of the farm. So he listened to see what Angelique would say.

Angelique was enthusiastic in agreeing. She was so excited at this unexpected offer. She knew she couldn't impose on the Bonacieux's forever. She also wanted to be close to, and get to know better, her new brother. This was the perfect opportunity.

His brothers, when Aramis let them know what had transpired, were very happy that things had worked out as they had. To celebrate, they bought quite a selection of pastries to bring back to the garrison with them.

Aramis told Angelique she could stay and help,and he and d'Artagnan would go and bring back her belongings, scant as they were, from the Bonacieux's as soon as they got back to the garrison and unloaded their sweets.

Leaving the shop, Angelique gave each of the Musketeers a big hug, but reserved the biggest and longest for her brother. Things had worked out so well, and she and Aramis couldn't be happier.

Aramis whistled all the way back to the garrison, and his brothers just smiled and were thankful that he had come through all he had and was back with them. Throwing their arms around each other's shoulders, and with light hearts, they came through the garrison gates, their home with smiles all the way around.

THE END

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Angelique may very well show up in one of my stories in the future. We will just have to wait and see. Thanks so much for reading my story, and for all your kind and helpful reviews.


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